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SOUTHERN  BRANCH, 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA, 

LIBRARY, 

tX)S  ANGELES,  CALIF, 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

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THE    CHILD 

HIS  THINKING^  FEELING,  AND  DOING 


9 


K  tf.1  '^ 


THE  CHILD 


HIS    THINKING,   FEELING,   AND  DOING 


By 

AMY   ELIZA  TANNER 

Professor  of  Philosophy  in   Wilson  College,  Chamhersburg 

Pennsylvania:  formerly  Associate  in  Philosophy 

in  the  University  of  Chicago 

13  IS  3 


RAND,    McNALLY    &    COMPANY 

Chicago  New  York  London 


Copyrij^kt,  iq04 
By  Amy  Eliza  Tanner 


T  15c 

• 
THE   PREFACE 

In  working  over  the  mass  of  material  which  has 
accumulated  on  Child-Study,  I  have  been  most 
impressed  by  the  fact  that  even  now  so  few  general 
laws  can  be  formulated  about  child-nature.  The 
material  is  still  in  a  chaotic  state,  and  seems  destined 
to  remain  so  for  some  time,  because  the  reports  from 
different  authorities  are  so  conflicting.  In  many  cases 
the  conflict  is  doubtless  due  to  different  conditions  of 
observation;  but  in  other  cases  it  is  due  to  differences 
in  children  resulting  from  heredity,  nationality,  or  from 
surroundings— homes,  food,  and  education.  I  therefore 
appreciate  the  fact  that  some  of  the  observations  given 
here  will  be  seriously  modified  by  later  ones.  I  do 
not  necessarily  defend  the  observations  which  I  cite; 
I  only  present  the  most  reliable  and  leave  them  for 
confirmation  or  rebuttal. 

On  this  account,  I  have  not  attempted  to  draw  many 
general  conclusions,  or  to  work  out  any  complete 
educational  theory.  I  have  aimed  rather  to  bring 
together  under  one  cover  a  summary  of  the  impor- 
tant work  done  thus  far  in  Child-Study,  so  that  the 
teacher  and  mother  who  have  little  access  to  libra- 
ries may  understand  something  of  what  the  condition 
of  the  subject  is,  and  may,  if  so  disposed,  con- 
tribute toward  filling  up  its  gaps.  This  side  of  the 
matter  is  the  more  prominent  in  my  own  mind  because 
the  book  is  the  direct  outcome  of  the  difiicuities  which 
I  met  in  teaching  the  subject  to  my  classes  in  the  Uni- 
versity College  of  the  University  of  Chicago.     There 

3 


A  THE  PREFACE 

seemed  to  be  a  need  for  a  b<wk  which  should  give 
a  resume  of  observaWons  which  at  that  time  were  to  be 
obtained  only  in  all  sorts  of  magazines  and  books,  and 
which  were  yet  necessary  to  an  understanding  of  the 
subject.  Such  a  book  would  also,  it  seemed  to  me, 
furnish  something  of  the  perspective  which  is  neces- 
sarily lacking  in  scattered  reading,  would  serve  as  a 
stimulus  to  more  careful  study  of  the  children  with 
whom  we  deal  every  day,  and  would  aid  in  preparing 
the  soil  for  abetter  educational  theory  than  at  present 
prevails. 

Although  lacking  in  theory,  the  book  should  still 
serve  as  a  background  upon  which  to  sketch  in  details 
of  the  child  whom  we  know  best.  In  the  study  of  one 
child  or  of  a  few  children,  to  which  we  are  most  of  us 
limited,  we  are  rather  prone  to  conclude  that  character- 
istics which  are  in  truth  peculiar  to  the  little  group 
known  to  us  belong  to  all  children.  A  knowledge  of 
these  wider  observations  will  prevent  such  errors  and 
will  lead  to  more  careful  study. 

Grateful  acknowledgment  is  hereby  made  to  Dr. 
Stuart  H.  Rowe,  Lecturer  on  Pedagogy  at  Yale  Uni- 
versity, who  read  the  manuscript  of  this  book  and  made 
many  valuable  suggestions;  to  the  Pedagogical  Seminary 
for  permission  to  reproduce  the  charts  found  on  pages 
331  and  408;  to  the  Elementary  School  Record  for  per- 
mission to  quote  from  Mrs.  May  Root  Kern's  article 
on  Song  Composition,  and  to  the  many  authors  whose 
works  I  have  consulted  freely. 

Amy  Eliza  Tanner. 

December,  iQOj. 


THE  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 


Chapter 


/ 

// 

/// 

IV 
'V 

'  vir 

VIII 
IX 

X 

jxi 
yxii 

^XIII 

XIV 

pXV 

-rXVI 

XVII 

XVIII 

.  XIX 

XX 


The  Preface   ...... 

T/ie  Abbreviations        .... 

Introduction        ..... 
Growth  of  the  Body 
Abnormal  Bodily  Conditions 
Feelings  and  Ideas  of  Sex 
Sensation  and  Perception  . 
Memory     ...... 

iMAGINATIOrf  ..... 

Conception  and  Reasoning 
Religious  Sentiment  and  Theological 

Ideas        

Conception  of  Good  and  Evil 
Feelings  and  Emotions 
Interests  ..... 

Impulsive,     Reflex,    and    Instinctive 

Movements 


Growth  in  Control  of  the 
Imitation  and  Suggestion 
Language  .... 
Rhythm  and  Music 
Drawing    .... 
Pl^y      .... 
Summary    .... 
The  Index 

5 


Body 


Page 

3 
6 


9 

15 

32 

56 

69 

96 
120 
141 

173 
193 
212 
231 

252 
275 

290 

311^ 

359 

373 

393 

416 

426 


THE   ABBREVIATIONS 

Alien,  and  Anthrop Alienist  and  Anthropologist 

Alien,  and  Neur Alienist  and  Neurologist 

Am.  Jour.  Folk  Lore   American  Journal  of  Folk  Lore 

Am.  Jour.  P.sy American  Journal  of  Psychology 

Am.  Jour.  Soc American  Journal  of  Sociology 

Am.  Nat American  Naturalist 

Am.  Phys.  Ed.  Rev American  Physical  Education  Review 

Boston   Med.    &    Surg.  Jour Boston    Medical   and    Surgical 

Journal 

C.  S.  M Child  Study  Monthly 

Contemp.  Rev Contemporary  Review 

E(Jqc Education 

Ed.  Rev Educational  Review 

Inland  Ed Inland  Educator 

Int.  Jour.  Ethics International  Journal  of  Ethics 

Jour,  of  Anthrop.  Inst,  of  (1.  1>.  &  Ireland Journal  of  the  An- 
thropological Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 

Jour,  of  Ed Journal  of  Education 

Jour,  of  Ped Journal  of  Pedagogy 

Kgn.  Mag Kindergarten  Magazine 

Kgn.  Rev Kindergarten  Review 

Mag.  of  Art Magazine  of  Art 

Med.  Mag Medical  Magazine 

Med.  Rev Medical  Review 

Mind,  N.  S Mind,  New  Series 

Montreal  Med.  Jour Montreal  Medical  Journal 

N.  Am.  Rev North  American  Review 

N.  W.  Mo Northwestern  Monthly 

Ped.  Sem Pedagogical  Seminary 

Phil.  Rev Philosophical  Review 

Pop.  Sc.  Mo Popular  Science  Monthly 

Proc.  Am.  Assn.  Adv.  Sc Proceedings  of  the  American  Asso- 
ciation for  the  Advancement  of  Science 
6 


THE    ABBREVIATIONS  >1 

Proc.  Assn.  of  Phys.  Ed Proceedings  of   the   Association  of 

Physical  Education 

Proc.  N.  E.  A Proceedings  of  the  National  Education  Asso- 
ciation. 

Proc.  Intern.  Cong.  Ed Proceedings  of  the  International  Con- 
gress of  Education 

Psy.  Rev Psychological  Review 

Psy.  Rev.  Monograph  Sup Physical  Review  Monograph  Sup- 
plement 

Kept,  of  Com.  of  Ed Report  of  the  Commissioner  of  Educa- 
tion 

Kept,  of  Supts.  of  Ed.  of  N.  Y Report  of  the  Superintendents 

of  Education  of  New  York 

Science,  N.  S Science,  New  Series 

Studies  from  Yale  Psy.  Lab Studies  from  Yale  Psychological 

Laboratory 

Texas  Academy  of  Sc Texas  Academy  of  Science 

Trans.  Am.  Med.  Assn Transactions  of  the  American  Medical 

Association 

Trans.  Am.  Phil.  Assn Transactions  of  the  American  Philo- 
logical Association 

Trans.  111.  Soc.  C.  S Transactions  of  the  Illinois  Society  for 

Child  Study 

U.  of  Cal.  Studies University  of  California  Studies 

West.  Rev Westminster  Review 


THE   CHILD 

HIS  THINKING,  FEELING  AND  DOING 

CHAPTER  I 

Introduction 

NATURALLY  enough,  children  have  always  been 
objects  of  the  greatest  care  and  solicitude  to 
society,  and  have  always  been  observed  and  studied, 
as  early  educational  theories  show.  Still,  chiid-study 
while  some  systematic  observation  has  its 
been  done  before,  it  has  been  left  for  our  i°iP"ta°ce. 
scientific  age  to  attempt  to  reduce  children,  along 
with  men,  to  the  terms  of  a  general  formula. 

The  importance  of  ascertaining  the  laws  that  govern 
the  growth  of  the  child's  body  and  mind  is  apparent 
to  the  most  superficial  observer.  Until  we  know 
how  a  child  grows;  whether  he  is  of  the  average  height 
and  weight  or  not;  whether  he  has  the  average  control 
of  his  body  or  not;  whether  he  shows  signs  of  nervous- 
ness or  not,  we  can  know  nothing  of  what  the  correct 
treatment  for  that  child  is.  We  may  hit  accident- 
ally upon  it,  but  we  are  just  as  likely  to  leave  the 
child  to  suffer  from  improper  food  or  exercise  or  work. 
Similarly,  until  we  know  the  general  characteristics 
of  each  stage  of  mental  development,  we  are  unpre- 
pared to  say  what  a  child  should  stud_\^  and  how  much 
he  can  do.  We  can  not  settle  any  of  the  questions 
concerning  the  courses  of  study,  the  order  of  subjects 

9 


lO  THE    CHILD 

and  the  mode  of  presenting  a  subject,  except  as  we 
know  the  child-nature  which  we  expect  to  develop 
by  our  education. 

Now  there  is  a  great  body  of  facts  about  children, 
which  has  been  obtained  from  the  casual  contact  that 
we  all  have  with  them,  and  which  is  in  some 
respects  accurate  and  in  others  inaccurate.  It  is  the 
object  of  systematic  Child-Study  to  supplement  and 
to  correct  these  common  ideas  by  a  more  careful  study 
of  the  facts,  and  so  to  give  a  firmer  foundation  for 
educational  theory  and  practice. 

In  this  study,  two  methods  are  possible,  each  of 
which  may  be  pursued  in  two  different  ways:  (i)  We 
may  study  some  individual  child  with  great 
CMid^-study  ^'^""'  '^"'-^  detail,  or  (2)  we  may  collect  sta- 
tistics from  large  numbers  of  children.  In 
both  cases  we  may  get  our  material  simply  from 
observing  children,  or  experiment  upon  them  by  fixing 
certain  conditions  under  which  they  shall  act. 

(i)  Individual  study  has  the  decided  advantage  of 
accuracy  in  details.  We  become  intimately  acquainted 
with  some  one  child,  and  learn  to  see  the  various  fine 
shadings  of  his  mind.  We  discern  the  gradually 
increasing  complexity  of  his  mental  processes.  We 
can  see  the  close  connection  between  mind  and  body 
in  many  details,  and  trace  to  their  origin  numerous 
quaint  ideas  and  marked  characteristics.  In  this  way 
we  can  learn  to  deal  with  this  one  child  so  that  we 
shall  make  comparatively  few  mistakes,  even  though 
our  theoretical  knowledge  be  not  very  wide. 

On  the  other  hand,  such  a  study  fails  us  in  many 
respects  when  we  come  to  work  with  other  children. 
We  can  not  be  certain  which   of  this  child's  traits  are 


INTRODUCTION  I   I 

peculiar  '.<)  him  or  his  family  and  which  arc  common 
to  all  children  of  his  age,  nor  can  we  be  sure  just  what 
importance  to  attach  to  certain  traits.  We  can  not  tell 
whether  to  ignore  them  because  they  will  naturally  be 
outgrown,  or  to  repress  them. 

(2)  Statistical  study  aims  to  give  just  this  sort  of 
information.  It  collects  data  from  large  numbers  of 
children  of  all  ages,  compares  them,  and  finally  is  able 
to  make  a  statement  about  certain  characteristics  of 
the  great  majority  of  children  of  each  age.  Such  gen- 
eral statements,  when  based  upon  sufificient  data,  rest 
upon  the  same  kind  of  foundation  that  the  laws  of 
any  science  do,  and  have  the  same  authority. 

It  is  evident  that  such  statistical  study  is  strong 
where  individual  study  is  weak  and,  vice  versa,  is  weak 
where  individual  study  is  strong.  It  lacks  the  detail 
and  vividness  of  the  individual  study,  but  is  more  gen- 
erally true  and  is  likely  to  be  a  safer  guide  when  diffi- 
culties come  up  in  treating  the  average  child  whom 
we  have  not  had  the  opportunity  to  study.  The  two 
methods  should,  therefore,  supplement  each  other. 
Each  parent  or  teacher  should  get  a  perspective  for 
himself  by  a  knowledge  of  the  general  facts  of  child- 
nature,  and  then  fill  in  details  by  a  study  of  the  Mary 
and  Johnnie  with  whom  she  lives. 

This  outline  of  child-nature  is  what  Child-Study 
hopes  to  accomplish,  but  as  yet  the  outline  is  frag- 
mentary. More  observations  have  been 
made  on  the  physical  nature  of  the  child  chiid-study 
than  on  anything  else,  but  even  here  there 
is  great  divergence  of  opinion  as  to  the  meaning  of 
the  facts  observed  and  as  to  their  practical  bearing. 
Good  work  has  been  done  on  small  groups  of  children 


I  2  THE    CHILD 

in  obscrviii.^  most  of  the  mental  processes  and  some 
of  the  forms  of  expression.  From  this  we  may  get 
liints  for  an  educational  theory,  but  it  is  valuable  so 
far  principally  in  giving  suggestions  for  further 
observations. 

If,  therefore,  few  conclusions  are  reached  in  the 
study  given  here,  it  must  be  remembered  that  this  is 
inevitable  under  present  conditions.  It  is  easy  to  form 
a  theory  if  we  have  studied  only  a  few  children,  but 
the  more  data  we  gather  from  large  numbers  of  child- 
ren the  more  probable  it  seems  that  our  present  edu- 
cational theories  must  be  considerably  enlarged  and 
altered  before  they  will  be  applicable  to  most  children. 

The  object  of  this  book  is  not,  therefore,  so  much  to 
offer  conclusions,  as  to  outline  what  has  been  done,  to 
show  breaks  in  the  outline,  and  to  point  out  places  for 
future  work. 

In  pursuance  of  this  object,    the  physical  nature  of 

the  child,  and  its  relation  to  his  mental  development, 

will  be  considered  first.       The  study  of  his 
Plan.  ,  ,      ,       .       .  .. 

mental    growth,   begmning  with    sensation 

and  perception,  through  memory  and  imagination  to 
thought,  will  follow.  The  treatment  here  will  necessa- 
rily be  inadequate  in  some  respects.  We  shall  then  con- 
sider what  little  we  know  of  the  child's  feelings  and  emo- 
tions; and  finally  trace  the  expression  of  his  thoughts 
and  feelings  in  his  instinctive  actions,  in  his  speech 
and  imitation,  and  in  his  play,  drawing,  and  music. 

The  teacher  or  leader  of  the  class  should   start  each 

member  upon  systematic  observation  of  some  child  or 

group  of  children  along  one  of  the  lines  indicated   in 

the  observations    at    the    bcginnini^-   of    each    chapter. 

.  With  this    in  view,  it  would  be  well  to  spend  a  part  of 


INTRODUCTION  |  -^ 

the  first   lcss(Mi    in   the  rcaclini;'   and   discussion   of  the 

sugi,^cstions,  and  in   an  apportionment  of  the  subjects 

amon<^^  the  members  of  the  chass.   Of  course 

■11  1      ,1  1  „    „      t-  Directions  to 

no  one  {)erson   will  undertake  observations  th- student 

ui)on  all  the  sulojects,  unless  he  wishes 
to  stud\'  but  one  child.  In  such  a  case,  he  would  do 
well  to  fjet  Miss  Sh inn's  BiograpJiy  of  a  Baby.,  or 
Preycr's  Lifrnt  Miiui,  for  more  detailed  accounts. 
Teachers  usually  find  it  better  to  take  some  one  sub- 
ject, frame  a  syllabus,  and  s^et  matc^rial  from  all  the 
children  in  their  room  or  school.* 

Even  if  such  observation  is  continued  only  while  the 
class  is  continued,  it  will  serve  to  give  point  and  sug- 
gestion to  every  chapter  in  the  book,  and  in  many 
cases  it  will  lead  to  further  study  and  to  more  sympa- 
thetic treatment  of  children.  By  far  the  most  valuable 
[)art  of  the  study  is  lost  if  observation  is  not  under- 
taken for,  after  all,  a  book  should  but  lead  us  on  to 
a  deeper  understanding  of  life.  The  following  dir(x- 
tions  may  assist  those  about  to  begin  making  obser- 
vations: 

/  Any  parents  or  teachers  who  intend  to  keep  a 
systematic  record  of  one  child,  should  get  a  fair-sized 
note-book,  and  enter  in  it  the  nationality  Directions 
of  the  child,  the  sex,  and  the  exact  date  for 
(hour  and  day)  of  birth.  Where  statistics  observation, 
are  to  be  obtained  from  numbers  of  children,  loose 
sheets  of  paper  are  more  usable.  PLach  sheet  should 
have  on   it  the  nationality,  sex  and  approximate  age 

*In  cases  where  either  a  detailed  or  a  general  study  is  taken 
up,  if  a  more  general  use  of  the  results  is  desired,  the  author  will 
appreciate  any  data  that  are  sent  to  her,  and  will  give  full  acknow- 
ledgement of  any  use  that  she  may  make  of  them.  She  can  be 
addressed  in  care  of  the  publishers. 


THE     CHILD 


of  the  child  (within  six  months)  at  the  time  when  the 
data  were  obtained.     No  names  are  necessary. 

2  In  keeping  the  record,  date  each  entry  exactly 
and  give  the  age  of  each  child  at  the  time  of  the  event. 

J  Record  the  event  at  the  time  when  it  occurred,  if 
possible;  if  not  possible,  state  how  long  a  time  elapsed 
before  the  entry  was  made.  An  entry  made  several 
days  after  the  event  has  little  value. 

4  Record  the  event  minutely  and  exactly 


CHAPTER  II 

Growth  of  the  Body 

ALL  weighing  should  be  done  on   the  nude  child, 
and  all  measuring  without  his  shoes  on. 

1.  Beginning  with  birth,  keep  a  record  of  the 
changes  in  weight  and  height.  For  the  first  month, 
weigh    and    measure  the  baby  every  week; 

thence,  to  the  end  of  the  first  year,  every       tionY.^*' 
month;  thence,  every  three  or  six  months. 
There   is  very  little  material    at    present   on  changes 
between  the  first  and  the  sixth  year,  and  any  parents 
who  will  keep  such  a  record  carefully  will  help  to  fill 
one  of  the  gaps  in  the  subject  of  Child-Study. 

2.  If  you  do  not  undertake  any  systematic  record, 
at  least  weigh  and  measure  your  children  now  and  see 
how  they  compare  with  the  average  weight  and  height 
as  shown  in  the  tables. 

3.  In  some  schools,  it  is  possible  for  a  teacher  to  get 
statistics  as  to  the  height  and  weight  of  each  child  in 
her  room.  Where  she  can  not  do  so,  she  can  usually 
get  the  height  and  weight  of  children  who  are  peculiar, 
to  see  how  they  compare  with  the  average  height  and 
weight  as  shown  in  the  tables. 

4.  In  cases  where  children  fall  below  the  average, 
begin  a  little  experimenting,  if  possible  under  a  physi- 
cian's advice,  with  their  food  and  work.  Keep  a 
record  of  the  changes  you  make  in  the  food  and  the 
work,  and  of  the  effect  upon  the  children. 

15 


i6 


THE   CHILD 


As   our   knowledge   of    the   mind    increases   we   see 

more   and  more   the   close  inter-relation  of  mind  and 

body,    and    we    realize    that    in    trying   to 
Importance  •'^ '  ^      . 

of  the  understand  the  condition  of  either  at  any 


subject. 


time,  we  must  take  into  consideration  the 


DiACKAM   1.     Showing   thk  Rklauvi:  rKiuoRiioNS  of  the  Bouv  in  Chilu 

AND    AUULT.       (LANGEK.) 

effect  of  each  upon  the  other.  We  have  no  right  to 
expect  the  same  mental  work  or  the  same  moral 
standards  from  a  child  who  is  sick,  or  cold,  or  hungry, 
as  from  the  one  who  is  healthy,  well-fed,  and  well-clad. 


GROWTH    OK    THE    BODY 


17 


The  parent  whose  child  is  much  below  the  average  in 
growth,  or  in  the  control  of  his  muscles,  should  be 
warned  thereby  to  be  on  the  watch  for  \-arious  mental 
or  moral  abnormalities.  As  there  is  no  way  of  watch- 
ing a  child's  mind  except  as  he  reveals  it  through 
his  movements,  it  becomes  of  great  importance  that  we 
should  understand  at  least  a  little  of  what  his  move- 
ments signify. 

It  is  not  uncommonly  assumed  that  a  child  is  simply 
a  little  man  or  woman.     How  untrue  this  is  as  to  his 


Diagram  z.     a.  Unfertilized  Human  Ovum,  Magnified  170  Diam.    (Naoel.) 
h.c.d.  Segmentation  of  the  Ovum,  Magnified  170 
Diam.     (After  von  Beneden.) 


body,   a    glance   at  Diagram   i   reveals.     A  child  who 
grew  to  manhood  preserving  his  childish  proportions 
would  be  a  monstrosity.     What  is  so  evi- 
dently true  of  the  body  as  a  whole  applies  ^^}l^  ''"'''' 

'  -^  ^    ^  IIla.Il. 

equally  to  details.  The  internal  organs, 
the  bones,  blood,  fat,  martow  and  nerves,  all  differ  so 
materially  from  the  adult's  that  when  similar  chemical 
structures  are  found  in  hini,  they  are  considered 
pathological.  We  can  not,  therefore,  believe  that  a 
child  can  eat  the  same  food,  breathe  the  same  air, 
wear  the  same  clothing  and  take  the  same  exercise  as 
an  adult,  and  obtain  the  highest  degree  of  health. 

The  human  body  consists  at  first  of  but  a  single  cell, 
•of   the   general    shape   and   size   shown    in   Diagram  2. 


l8  THE    CHILD 

When  the  cell  begins  to  grow,  it  increases  in  size  and 
after  a  time  divides  into  two.  Each  of  these  cells  does 
the  same,  and  so  on,  the  entire  mass  of  cells 
of*theb^Ty°*  increasing  in  number  and  in  size.  When 
the  organs  of  the  body  begin  to  form,  the 
mode  of  growth  changes.  The  cells  no  longer  increase 
in  number,  but  change  their  form,  size,  and  relations 
to  other  cells.  In  the  nervous  system,  the  entire 
number  of  nerve  cells  is  complete  by  the  fifth  month 
of  foetal  life.  From  this  it  has  been  hastily  concluded 
that  the  effects  of  education  must  be  very  limited, 
since  all  that  education  can  do,  at  the  most,  is  to 
develop  cells  already  existing.  The  incorrectness  of 
such  a  conclusion  is  seen  when  we  understand  that 
there  are  millions  of  nerve  cells  undeveloped  in  even 
the  most  cultured  adult.  So  far  education  seems  to 
have  developed  some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  cells. 
With  millions  still  untouched,  we  need  hardly  fear  any 
curtailment  of  educational  functions  for  a  longtime. 

Considering  first  the  increase  in  weight  from  birth 
to  adolescence,  observations  upon  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  children  show  that  at  birth  the 
average  weight  or  a  boy  is  7.3  pounds;  of 
a  girl,  7.1  pounds.  The  boys'  weights  vary  from  3 
pounds  to  12  pounds,  but  8.7  per  cent  of  them  weigh 
between  6  and  g  pounds.  The  weight  of  the  girls 
comes  within  the  limits  of  4  and  ii  pounds,  with  85 
per  cent  between  6  and  g  pounds.  The  limits  of 
safety,  then,  for  both  boys  and  girls  seem  to  be  6  and  9 
pounds. 

By  the  end  of  the  first  year,  a  child's  weight  should 
have  trebled.  That  is,  an  average  boy  should  weigh 
21.9  pounds,  and  an  average  girl  21.3  pounds. 


GROWTH    OF   THE    BODY 


19 


Effect 
of  food. 


The  cffi'ct  of  the  child's  food  upon  this  first  year's 
growth  is  still  a  much  disputed  question.  Camcrer,  a 
German  physician,  observed  that  it  seemed  to  make 
little  difference  whether  the  food  was  artificial  or 
natural.  He  found  that  fifty-seven  chil- 
dren fed  upon  mother's  milk  weighed  less 
at  the  end  of  the  first  year  than  thirty-one 
others,  lighter  at  birth,  who  had  been  nourished  on 
artificial  food.  Many  mothers  believe  that  at  any 
cost  they  must  nurse  their  children,  but  this  seems, 
in  many  cases,  to  work  a  direct  harm  to  the  child. 
If  the  mother  is  not  well,  the  milk  may  not  contain 
all  the  necessary  food-elements  in  the  right  propor- 
tions and  the  baby  may  actually  starve.  The  advice 
of  a  good  physician  should  be  followed  in  all  cases. 

By  the  sixth  year,  the  average  boy  weighs  45.2 
pounds;  the  average  girl,  43.4  pounds.  Thence  to  the 
seventeenth  year,  the  following  table  shows  the  weights 
in  pounds,  with  ordinary  indoor  clothing. 

Burk's  Table    Showing  Average  Weight  of   6S,ooo  American 
Children  in  Boston,  St.  Louis,  and  Milwaukee 


Age 


(>'/2 

V/z 
i6j< 


Boys 


Average 

in  lbs. 


45.2 
49-5 
54-5 
59-& 
65.4 
70.7 
76.9 
84.  S 
95-2 

107.4 
121. o 


Annual 
Increase 


4-3 
50 

5-1 

5.8 

5-3 
6.2 

7-9 
10  4 
12.2 
13.6 


Per  Cent 

of 
Increase 


9-5 
10. 1 

9-3 

9-7 

8.1 

8.7 

10.3 

12.3 

12.8 

12.7 


Girls 


Average 
in  lbs. 


43-4 
47-7 

52.5 
57-4 
62.9 

f'9-5 
7S.7 
88.7 
98.3 
106.7 
112. 3 


.•\nnual 
Increase 


4.3 

4.8 
4.9 

5-5 
6.6 
9.2 
10.  o 
9.6 
8.4 
5.6 


Per  Cent 

of 
Increase 


9-9 
10.  o 

9-3 

9.6 

10.5 

13.2 

12.7 

11.9 

8.5 

5-2 


20 


THE   CHILD 


Examination  of  this  table  will  show  that  there  is  with 
boys  a  period  of  fairly  rapid  increase  from  "jY-y  to  lo^ 
years,  then  a  slower  rate  to  13^  years,  and  a  still 
more  rapid  rate  of  growth  from  13^  years  on.  The 
growth  of  girls  is  more  steady,  but  still  there  are 
well-defined  periods  of  acceleration  from  7J/2  to  9^ 
years  and  from  12)2  to  145^  years.  In  general,  girls 
weigh  less  than  boys  from  birth  on,  except  from  the 
twelfth  to  the  fourteenth  years,  when  they  weigh  more. 

The  average  newborn  boy  measures  ig.68  inches, 
with  the  extreme  limits  at  15  and  24  inches;  the  new- 
born girl  ig.48  inches,  with  the;  limits  at 
16  and  23  inches.  The  most  rapid  growth 
in  height,  as  in  weight,  is  in  the  first  months  of  life. 
In  the  first  month,  a  child  adds  something  like  2)^ 
inches  to  his  length  and  by  the  end  of  the  first  year,  has 
increased  from  7  to  8  inches.  At  the  time  of  the  first 
dentition  Camerer  observed  a  lessening  of  the  rate  of 
growth.  At  the  age  of  six  years,  the  average  boy 
measures  44. 10  inches,  the  average  girl,  43.66  inches. 
Thence  to  the  seventeenth  year,  their  average  heights 
in  inches  are  shown  in  the  following  table.* 


Height. 


Years 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

n 

12 

13 

It 

61.08 
60.32 

15 

16 

17 

Boys 

Girls 

44.10 
43-66 

46.21  48.  li) 
45.94  48.07 

50.09 
49.61 

52.21 

51.78 

54.01 
53-79 

55-78 
57-16 

58.17 
58.75 

62.96 
61.39 

65-58 
61.72 

66.29 
61.99 

*These  measurements  were  taken  without  shoes.  As  only 
American  children  are  included  in  them,  the  measures  are  slightly 
larger  than  the  average.  The  American-born  child  is  slightly 
taller  and  heavier  than  the  English,  Irish,  German  or  Scandina- 
vian child.  No  comparative  measurements  exist  for  other  nation- 
alities. We  should  also  note  here  that  the  periods  of  most  rapid 
increase,  both  in  height  and  in  weight,  are  put  from  one  to  two 
j-ears  earlier  by  some  writers.  DouVjtless  food,  nationality,  and 
climate  influence  this.     This  table  is  taken  from  Bowditch. 


GROWTH    OF    THIi    BODY  2  1 

Here  again  Ve  note  a  rhythm  of  much  the  same 
nature  as  that  of  the  increase  in  weight.  The  l)oys,  as 
a  rule,  are  taller  than  the  girls  except  between  the  years 
of  twelve  and  fointcen.  Their  periods  of  growth  are 
more  sharply  defined,  and  individuals  differ  from  each 
other  within  w^ider  limits  The  differences  between 
individuals  also  increase  with  age.  It  is  sometimes 
said  that  up  to  adolescence  a  child  lives  the  race  life; 
at  adolescence,  there  is  a  strong  development  of 
family  traits,  and  thereafter  the  child  becomes  more 
individual. 

The     most     marked     fluctuations    in    growth    occur 

between   the  years  of  six  and  nine  for  both   boys   and 

girls,  and  again  between  eleven  and  thirteen 

r  .,',r,  1-.  r..      Rhythms  of 

for  girls,     and    fourteen    and     sixteen    tor     gro^^tii  and 

boys.  The  first  period  is  closely  connected  other 
with  the  getting  of  the  second  teeth,  and  ^^^^^^ses. 
with  the  fact  that  at  this  lime  the  brain  is  rapidly 
developing  fibers  of  connection  between  its  various 
parts.  On  account  of  this  brain  growth,  there  is 
usuallv  a  marked  mental  change  in  each  child.  He  has 
more  interests,  he  plays  more  kinds  of  games,  and  he 
has  a  wider  range  of  friends  than  before.  The  second 
change  is  the  accompaniment  of  puberty  and  \\ill  be 
considered  later. 

It  is  most  interesting  to  notice  that,  taking  into  con- 
sideration all  the  obserxations  made,  periods  of  rd\nd 
growth    in    height  precede  periods  of  rapid      Relations 

growth    in    weight,    although    this    is    not     between 

...  -11  -ri  •         growth  in 

so  marked   with   girls  as   with    boys.      ihis      heightand 

is    true    not    only    of    the    larger    periods     in  weight, 
of    which    we   have    spoken,    but    of    shorter    ones    as 
well. 


22  THE  CHILD 

R.  Malling-IIanscn  of  Copenhagen,    made   observa- 
tions upon  seventy  boys  from  seven  to  fifteen  years  of 
age,  for  a  period  of  two  years,    to   find  out 
rhythms  what   rhythms  of  growth   occur  within   the 

marked  both  in  height  and  in  weight.  The  period  of 
most  rapid  growth  in  weight  is  from  August  to  Decem- 
ber; of  average  growth,  from  December  to  the  end 
of  April,  and  of  least  growth  from  April  to  August. 
Conversely,  the  greatest  increase  in  height,  is  from 
April  to  August,  and  the  least  from  August  to  De- 
cember. 

Within  each  month  he  observed  rhythmical  alterna- 
tions, a  period  of  growth  of  perhaps  fifteen  days  alter- 
nating with  one  of  comparative  rest.  He  also  found 
a  similar  rhythm  within  the  week;  and  noticed  that 
during  the  day  children  increase  in  weight  and 
decrease  in  height,  while  during  the  night  the  converse 
is  true.  Heat  and  light  seem  to  accelerate  increase  in 
weight.  Camerer  corroborates  Malling-Hansen  in 
most  of  his  observations;  and  Vierordt  and  Fleisch- 
mann  also  corroborate  the  weekly  rhythms. 

None  of  these  observers  has  dealt  with  large  num- 
bers of  children,  and  therefore  we  need  further  data 
before  we  can  be  sure  that  these  rhythms  are  universal; 
but  the  various  observers  agree  as  far  as  they  have 
gone,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  good  reason  a  priori 
why  the  facts  should  not  be  generally  true 

When  we  consider  the  growth  of  the  various  organs 
of  the  body,  and  of  the  skeleton,  muscles  and  nervous 
system,  the  most  striking  fact  is  that  it  is  irregular. 
At  any  given  time,  certain  parts  will  be  developing 
rapidly,  and  others  slowly.     The  details  of  this  growth 


GROWTH    OF   THE    BODY 


23 


arc  much  too  complex  to  be  given  here,  aiul  their  mean- 
ing  is    not    yet    understood.     It  need    only  be  statt;d 
that  at  adolescence  the  heart  and  lungs,  as  ^,j.jj^^jjpf 
well  as  the  reproductive  organs,  are  grow-  dififerent 
ing  very  rapidly,  and   that  between  seven  parts  of  the 
and  nine  the  brain  is  developing  numerous 
fibers  of  connection,  although  it  is  increasing  little  if 
any  in  size. 

Vierordt's  Table,  Showing  THE  Relative  Growth  of  Various 
Parts  of  the  Body,  Counting  Size  at  Birth  as  100. 


Length  of  head 

U  pper  part  of  head 

Length  of  face 

From  chin  to  upper  end  of  breastbone 

Breastbone 

Abdomen 

Leg  

Height  of  foot 

Upper  arm 

Forearm 


Birth 

End  OF 
21  Mos. 

7'/8 

Yrs. 

100 
100 

150 
114 

191-7 
150 

100 

200 

250 

100 
100 

TOO 

500 
186 
160 

700 
300 
240 

100 

200 

455 

100 
100 
100 

150 
183 

1S2 

300 
328 
322 

Adult 

200 
157 
260 
goo 

314 
260 

473 
450 
350 
350 


It  goes  without  saying  that  a  child   that  is  well    fed 

will  be  taller  and  heavier  than  he  would  be  if  he  went 

hungry,  but  there  is  another  and  erroneous 

•  1  .     1      -^1    ii  •        iT^       c  Relation  of 

idea  connected  with  this.    We  often  assume    g^^eto  food. 

that  any  well-fed  child  will   be  taller  and 

heavier  than   any   poorly    fed    one.     This    is   not   so. 

Size  depends,  not  only  upon   good   nutrition,  but   also 

upon  nationality,  climate  and  family.      There   seems 

to  be  a  certain  size  for  each  individual,  which  his  body 

will  strive  desperately  to  reach   even   under   the   most 

unfavorable  conditions,   but  which   it   is   not  likely  to 

exceed    under  any   circumstances.      In    this    struggle, 


24 


THE   CHILD 


disease  or  insufficient  fond  before  the  age  of  six  has 
the  most  permanent!}'  had  effects.  After  tliat  lime, 
any  drawbacks  \\ill  retard  .growth  temporarily,  Ijiit 
will  be  followed  Ijy  an  unusually  rapid  growth.  A 
child  who  has  liad  good  health  uj:*  to  the  sixth  year 
has  an  excellent  start  in  life. 

Bowditch's  Tenth  Report  seems  to  show  conclusively 
that  children  of  the  poorer  classes  are  lighter  and 
shorter  than  those  of  the  well-to-do,  though  the  differ- 
ences are  small.  All  observers  find  that  the  profes- 
sional classes  are,  at  any  given  age,  taller  and  heavier 
than  the  laboring  classes.  This  is  true  in  England, 
Germany,  Denmark  and  Sweden. 

The  rate  of  growth,  however,  does  not  seem  to  be 
markedly  difft-rent;  that  is,  the  poor  child  grows  as 
ra|)idly  as  the  rich,  but  is  shorter  and  lighter  to  begin 
with.  This  seems  to  indicate  that  the  embryonic  and 
early  conditions  of  nutrition  arc  the  most  important 
for  absolute  weights  and  heights. 

Exactly  what  importance  shoukl  be  assigned  in 
growth  to  food,  race  and  climate,  is  still  unsettled. 
Americans  are  taller  and  heavier  than  othir  national- 
ities, but  this  is  not  due  exclusi\-ely  to  race,  for  an 
Irish-American  or  German-yXnu'ricau  recruit  is  taller 
and  heaxier  than  his  brother  in  the  old  country.  Eood 
and  climate;  evidently  have  considerable  influence  here. 

It  is  significant  that  idiots  and  imbeciles  are  always 
shorter  and   lighter  than   normal  persons;  but  on   the 

lation  of  ''ther  hand,  we  must  not  forget  that  men  of 
sizetomen-  taU'nt,  if  not  of  genius,  an'  not  inirecjuent- 
tai  ability.  ,^^,  small.  We  can  not  maintain  that  men 
below  a  given  height  and  weight  are  stupid,  any  more 
than  we  can  hold  that  si/e  has  no  relalion  \\hate\-er   to 


GROWTH    OK   THE    BODY 


25 


mental  ability.  Tlu'  case  should  [irobably  be  stated 
thus:  Any  chikl  who  falls  much  below  the  size  of  other 
members  of  iiis  faniily  at  the  same  age,  is  also  likely 
to  fall  below  tluMii  in  intellij^ence.  A  more  direct 
relation  between  mind  and  body  is  given  in  bodily 
control,  which  we  shall  consider  later. 

In  \'\c\\'  of  the  well  marked  rhythms  of  growth,  the 
question  at  once;  arises  as  to  their  bearing  upon  educa- 
tion. Shoidd  the  child,  while  growing  rapid-  periods  of 
ly,  have  more  or  less  school  work?  Should  growth  and 
we  stimulate  him  or  quiet  him?  The  most  education, 
diverse  answers  ha\e  been  gi\en  to  these  questions. 
The  chief  conflict  has  raged  about  the  proper  treat- 
ment of  the  adolescent  boy  and  girl.  We  find  some 
physicians  declaring  that  girls  from  twelve  to  fourteen 
years  old,  should  be  taken  out  of  school  entirely  and 
boys  from  fourteen  to  sixteen  years  old  given  much 
less  mental  work  to  do.  Many  educators,  on  the  other 
hand,  claim  that  this  is  the  time  when  permanent 
interests  in  all  subjects  must  be  established.  The 
child  now  lix'es  in  a  new  world — one  of  ideals — and 
we  must  introduce  him  as  speedily  as  may  be  to 
the  best  in  literature,  history,  science,  art,  music, 
religion  and  everything  that  goes  to  make  u[)  our  com- 
plex life. 

We  may  pc;rhaps  untangle  a  few  of  the  threads  from 
this  knotted  skein  by  comparing  the  periods  of  greatest 
susceptibility  to  disease  with  those  of  ado-  Relation  of 
lescence.  Dr.  E.  M.  Hartwell  of  Boston  age  to 
has  made  tables  based  on  the  mortality  ^i^^^^^- 
returns  of  Boston  for  1875,  1885  and  1890.  He  finds 
that  specific  life-intensity,  that  is,  ability  to  resist 
disease,  varies  as  follows: 


26 


THE   CHILD 


Age 

Fkr  Cent  of 

iNCKKASE 

IN  Weight 

Specific  Life- 
Intensitv 

Per  Cent  of 
Incre.-vse 
IN  Height 

Girls 

Boys 

Girls 

Boys 

Girls 

Boys 

5-  6 

4.00 
4.08 
4.58 
3-72 
398 
4.06 
4.56 
4.08 

3-II 
1.90 

•77 

5.20 
4.5S 
4.38 
4-03 
4.04 
3.12 
3-39 
3.78 
4.68 
4.0T 
4-3f> 

6008 

69-5 
1 03. 8 
123.2 
195.4 

191. 2 
309.0 
232.0 
162.0 

171. 3 
169.3 

673 
74  5 
106.8 
164.0 
134-8 
209.3 

233-2 

290.1 

238.7 

250.1 
188. 1 

8. 88 

9.69 

8.83 

10.68 

9.26 

10.24 

13.78 

13.23 

10.94 

7.83 

5.61 

10.24 

6-7 

8.78 

7-  8 

9.86 
9.79 

8-9 

9-IO 

lO-I  1 

10.40 
7-43 
9-74 
10  31 
11.66 
13.02 
12.96 

II-I2  

12-13  

13-14  

14-15  

IC-16  

Accordin<r  to  this  tabic,  y,irls  from  1 1  to  12  years  old 
and  boys  from  12  to  13  years  old  are  better  able  to 
resist  disease  than  at  any  other  time,  although  the 
increase  in  power  of  resistance  is  not  so  marked  with 
boys  as  with  girls.  The  entire  period  from  9  to  13  for 
girls  and  from  10  to  15  for  boys  is  the  time  of  greatest 
resistance  to  disease,  while  the  period  after  13  for  girls 
and  15  for  boys  is  one  of  less  power  of  resistance  than 
the  years  immediately  preceding.  To  state  it  in  other 
terms,  the  period  immediately  preceding  adolescence 
is  the  healthiest  time  of  life;  while  adolescence  itself 
falls  short  of  this  period  but  exceeds  the  period  before 
the  ninth  year. 

Other  statistics,  on  the  other  hand,  seem  to  indicate 
that  the  maximum  resistance  to  disease  comes  some- 
what later,  when  the  boy  or  girl  has  practically  fin- 
ished growing  in  height  and  is  making  great  gains  in 
weight.  This  would  seem  to  argue  that  the  ado- 
lescent can  endure  a  reasonable  amount  of  work  with- 
out harm. 


GROWTH    OK   THE    BODY  2  7 

We  need,  however,  more  statistics  which  shall  cor- 
relate in  the  same  children  increase  in  height,  weight 
and  resistance  to  disease,  before  we  can  safely  draw 
conclusions. 

Throughout  this  account  we  have  given  only  aver- 
ages; we  have  been  able  to  say  only  "between  certain 
ages,"  or  "at  about  this  age;"  that  is,  the  Necessity  of 
order  of  growth  is  nearly  the  same  for  individual 
all  children,  but  any  particular  child  may  ^^"'^y- 
be  more  or  less  advanced  than  another  at  the  same  age. 
One  child  of  nine  years  may  be  like  another  of  seven, 
or  like  another  of  eleven.  Each  parent  and  each  teacher 
must  find  out  how  much  the  children  for  whom  he  is 
responsible  vary  from  the  average,  and  modify  his  treat- 
ment of  them  accordingly.  We  should  be  at  least  as 
careful  to  fit  a  child  with  mental  garments  as  we  are 
to  provide  proper  clothing  for  his  body.  The  sys- 
tem of  grades  in  school  is  well  calculated  to  turn  out 
children  all  of  the  same  pattern,  regardless  of  their 
natural  variations,  and  so  each  parent  should  be  espe- 
cially careful  to  see  that  the  individual  mental  needs 
of  his  own  children  are  provided  for. 

In  conclusion:  In  the  newborn  child,  all  the  ele- 
ments of  the  future  man  are  present  in  germ,  but  edu- 
cation decides  which  factors  are  to  grow  and 
which  are  to  atrophy.  In  the  first  years  of  conclusion. 
life  growth  of  all  parts  of  the  body  is  far 
more  rapid  than  at  any  other  time,  and  educational, 
that  is,  environmental  influences,  are  most  potent. 
There  are  at  least  two  well-marked  periods  of  growth 
in  height  and  in  weight  with  both  boys  and  girls,  of 
which  the  first  is  connected  with  the  second  dentition 
and  the  second  with   the  setting  in   of   puberty.      In- 


23  ^HE    CHILD 

crease  in  height  precedes  increase  in  weight,  and 
increase  in  weight  is  accompanied  l)y  increased  resist- 
ance to  disease,  and  is  prol)aljly  the  time  when  mental 
work  can  be  done  to  the  l)(,'st  athantage.  Size  and 
mental  ability  have,  not  a  direct,  but  an  indirect 
relation  to  each  other,  varying  with  the  family,  climate 
and  food.  Any  given  child  must  be  studied  not  only 
in  comparison  with  other  children  of  the  same  age,  but 
also  in  comparison  especially  with  others  of  his  own 
family.  We  need  not  only  general  laws  for  all  chil- 
dren, but  also  for  children  of  this  or  that  family,  just  as 
we  have  laws  for  species  of  flowers  in  addition  to  those 
for  the  genera. 

REFERENCES 

Allen,  Mary  E.     Physical  Development  of  Women  and  Children. 

Proc.  Assn.  of  Phys.  Ed.,  1890,  9-21. 
Bailey,  J.     How  to  Teach  Babies,  L.     Hughes,  $0.60. 
Beebe.     Motor  and  Sensory 'Children.     C.  5".  .1/.,  Ill,  14- 
Beyer,  H.  G.      Influence  of  E.xercise  on   Growth.      A>n.    Phys. 
Ediic.  Rev.,  Sept.  and  Dec,  1896. 
Normal  Growth  and  Development  under  Systematized  Exer- 
cise.    Rep.  of  Chief  of  Biireaic  of  Medicine  and  Surgery 
to  Sec'y  of  Navy,  1893,  141-160. 
Boas,  F.     On  Porter's  Investigations.     Science,  Nov.  i,  1S95. 

On   Growth  of   First-born  Children.     Science,   N.  S.,  I.,  402- 

404. 
Form  of  Head  as  Influenced  by  Growth.     Science,  N.  S.,  IV, 

50-51- 
Growth  of  Toronto  Children.     Rep.  of  Com.  of  Ed.,  1896-7, 

1541-1599. 
Anthropological  Investigations  in  Schools  -Their  Importance. 

Scicftce,  1 89 1,  22 5 -2 2 8. 
Growth  of  Children.     Science,  N.  S.,  V,  570-573. 
Bowditch,  H.  P.     Growth  with  Reference  to  Disease.       Trans. 

Am.  Med.  Assn.,  XXXII,  376. 
Growth   studied  by  Galton's  Percentile  Grades.     22d  Rep. 


GROWTH    OF    THE    BODY  29 

Mass.    Board  of    Health.      (Rearrangement  of    previous 

material. ) 
Growth  of   Children.     Eighth    An.    Rcpt.    of   Mass.    State 

Board  of  Health.     Also  Tenth  An.  Kept,  of  Mass.  State 

Board  of  Health.    (Supplements  eighth  with  reference  to 

effect  of  race  and  mode  of  life.) 
Bryan,  W.  L.     Development  of  Voluntary   Motor  Ability.     Am. 

Jour.  Psy.,  Nov.,  1892.  125-204. 
Bryan,  E.  B.    Nascent  Stage.s  and  Their  Significance.    Fed.  Sem., 

1900,  357-396.     (Detailed  work  for  different  ages.) 
Burk,  Frederick.     Growth  of    Children  in   Height  and  Weight. 

Am. /our.  Psy.,  IX,  253-326. 
From  Fundamental  to  Accessory  in  Development  of  Nervous 

System  of  Movement.     Ped.  Sem.,  VI,  5-64. 
(Excellent  articles.     Summarize  much  previous  work.) 
Bnrnham,  W.  H.     Hygiene  of  Schools.     Ped.   Sem.,  1892,  9-71. 

(Very  complete.) 
Camerer,    W.       Unter.suchungen    iiber    Massenwachsthum    und 

Langenwachsthum.      /.  fi^r  Kinderheitskunde,  Bd.    336, 

249-293.    (Most  important  contribution  on  infantile  growth, 

up  to  1 898.) 
Carven,   A.     Pain   and   Strength  Measurements  of   1507   School 

Children.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  1899,  392-39S. 
Gushing,  F.  H.     Manual   Concepts:     Study  of  the  Influence  of 

Hand  Usage  upon  Culture  Growth.     Am.  four.  Anthrop., 

V,  2S9-317. 
Dawson,  G.   E.    Children's  Interest  in  the  Bible.     Ped.  Sem.,  \, 

43.     (Summary  of  facts  of  growth.) 
Donaldson,  H.  H.   Growth  of  the  Brain.  N.Y.  Scribner's.  $1.50. 
Du  Bois,  Raymond.    Physiology  of  Exercise.    Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  XXI, 

317-331.  333-433- 
Elliot,  S.  B.     Prenatal  Culture.     Arena,   IX,  1893- 1894.   417-426; 

X,  306-316,  668-676.     (Extreme.) 
Galton,   Francis.      Growth.      Rep.   of  Anthropometric  Com.  of 

British  Assn.,  J.,  1S83. 
Height  and  Weight  of  Boys  of  14  Years.     Jour,  of  Anthrop. 

Inst,  of  G.  B.  and  Ireland,  V,  173-180. 
Hereditary  Stature.     Do.  above,  488-499.     Summary  of  these 

in  Rep.  Com.  of  Educ.,  1895-1896,  1175-119S. 
Hereditary  Genius,  L.     Macmillan,  S2.50. 


«Q  THE   CHILD 

Natural  luheritancf,  L.     Macmilhm,  $2.00. 
Principles   and    Methods    of    Assigning    Marks    for    Bodily 
Efficiency.     Nature,   Oct.  3.  1889. 
Gilbert.  J.  A.     Researches  on  School  Children  and  College  Stu- 
dents.     U.  of  loiua  Studies  in  Psy.,  I,  1-39. 
Greenwood,  J.  M.   Height  and  Weight  of  Children.  Rep.  of  Board 

of  Ed.  of  Kansas  City,  1890-91,  45-5'J- 
Hall,  W.  S.     First  500  days  of   a  Child's  Life.     C.   S.   M.,  Vol. 
II,  1897. 
Changes  in  Proportions  of  Body  in  Growth.    J.  of  A7ithrop. 
Inst,  of  G.  B.  and  Ire.,  Vol.  XXV.  21-46. 
Halleck,  Reuben  Post.    Education  of  the  Motor  Centers.     Trans. 
Ill  S.  C.  S.,  III.,  46. 
Education  of  the  Central  Nervous  .System.  N.  Y.  Macmillan, 

$I.(X). 

Hancock,  J.  A.    Preliminary  Study  of  Motor  Ability.    Bed.  Sem.. 

1894,  9-29.     (Good.) 
Hawkins,  C.      Physical   Measurements  of   Public   School    Boys. 

/.  of  Ed.,  1891,  35-41.  187-190- 
Holt.  L.  Emmett   Care  and  Feeding- of  Children.    N.  Y.    Apple- 
ton,  $0.50. 
Hrdlicka,    A.      Anthropoloi^ical   Investigations  on   1000   Chil- 

dred.   White  and  Colored.     N.  Y.     Wynkoop  Hollenbeck 

Crawford  Co. 
Key,  Axel.     School  Life  in  Relation  to  Health  and  Growth. 
Kingsley,    Charles.     Health   and    Education.   N.  Y.     Appleton, 

$i.75-     (Written  about  1874;  not  valuable.) 
Kirkpatrick,  E.  A.     Development  of  Voluntary  Movement.     Psy. 

Rev.,  1899,  6  pp.     (Nativistic  theory  of  perception.) 
Krohn,  Wm.     Habitual  Postures  of  Children.     C.  S.  M.,  I,  114. 
Lander,  B.  J.     Posture  and  Its  Indications.    Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  XLII. 

26-34.     (Describes  some  common  characteristic  postures  of 

disease.) 
Lindlay,  E.  H.     Some  Motor  Phenomena  of  Mental  Effort.     Am. 

four.  Psy.,  July,  1896,  491-517. 

Mackenzie,  R.  T.    Place  of  Physical  Training  in  a  School  System. 

Montreal  Med.  four.,  1900,  30-36. 
MacNamara,   N.    C.      Human    Brain  in  Relation  to  Education. 

West.  Rev.,  1900,  634-640. 
Mosher.  Eliza  M.     Habitual  Postures  of  Children.     Educ.  Rev., 

IV.  (10  pp.). 


GROWTH    OF   THE    BODY  ^j 

Oppenheim,  N.  Devclopmcni  of  the  Child,  N.Y.  Macniillan,  $1.25. 
O'Shea,  M.  V.     Discussion  on  Children's  Physical  Development. 

Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  i8q7,  598. 
Peckham.     Growth  of  Children.     Sixth  Annual  Rep.  of  State 

Board  of  Health  of  Wis.,  28-73. 
Porter,  W.  S.     Physical  Basis  of  Precocity  and  Dullness.      Trans. 

Am.  Acad.  So.  at  St.  Louis,  Vol.  VI,   161-181.     Also  Am. 

Phys.  Ed.  Rev.,  Vol.  II,  155-173,  same  article. 
Growth  of  St.  Louis  Children,  263-380. 
Posse.  Nils.     Special  Kinesiology   of  Educational   Gymnastics. 

Boston.     Lee,  $3.00. 
Roberts,   C.     Manual  of  Anthropometry.     L.   Churchill,  §1.50. 

(Most  complete  treatment  in  English  of  growth  measure- 
ments.) 
Rowe,  S.  H.     Physical  Nature  of  the  Child  and  How  to  Study 

It.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $1.00.     (Simple  and  accurate.) 
Scripture,   E.  W.     Education   of  Muscular  Control  and   Power. 

Studies  from   Yale  Psy.  Lad.,  II. 
Seguin,  E.     Prenatal  and  Infantile  Culture.     Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  X, 

38-43. 
Shaw,  E.  R.     Observations    on    Teaching    Children    to    Write. 

C.  S.  M.,  I.  226. 
Smedley,  F.  W.     Report  on  Child-Study  Investigation.    Chicago 

Board  of  Education. 
Telford-Smith,  T.     Scientific  Study  of  Mental  and  Physical  Con- 
ditions of  Childhood.     Pediatrics,  1897,  317-321. 
Tucker,    M.    A.      Involuntary    Movements.      Am.    Jour.    Psy., 

VIII,  394. 
Warner,  Francis.     Physical  and  Mental  Condition  Among  Fifty 

Thousand    Children.     /.   Roy,  Stat.  Soc,  1896.  125-128. 

(The  basis  of  most  other  work  of  this  sort.)    Sum.  in  Rep. 

Com.  of*Ed.,  1895-6,  1 175. 
Study  of  Children.     Nervous  System  of  the  Child.     N.  Y. 

Macmillan.    Each,  $1.00.    (Both  works  cover  much  the  same 

ground;  very  diffuse.) 
West.     Relation  of  Physical  Development  to  Intellectual  Ability. 

Science,  N.  S.,  IV,  156-159. 
Wissler,  Clark.     Correlation  of  Mental  and  Physical  Feats.    Psy. 

Rev.  Monograph  Sup.,  Vol.  Ill,  No.  6. 

8 


CHAPTER  III 

Abnormal  Bodily  Conditions 

SINCE  tin'  connection  between  the  sound  mind  and 
the  soinul  Ijody  is  as  close  as  the  last  chapters 
ha\'e  shown,  it  is  of  great  importance  for  all  who  have 
introduc-  charge  of  children  to  know^  some  of  the 
*ion.  more  common  symptoms  of  disease.    Exam- 

inations, made  in  recent  years,  of  the  eyes  and  ears 
of  school  children  show  that  to  a  most  appalling 
degree  parents  and  teachers  have  considered  children 
stupid,  obstinate;,  and  bad  who  are  only  partially  deaf 
or  blind.  In  the  minds  of  physicians  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  many  other  cases  of  supposed  innate 
wickedness  or  laziness  are  in  reality  cases  of  some  form 
of  nervous  derangement. 

What  we  shall  do,  therefore,  in  this  chapter  is  to 
describe  some  of  the  symptoms  which  should  ])ut  par- 
ents on  their  guard  and  set  them  to  watching  the  child 
in  cjuestion  more  carefulh^  with  a  view  to  consult- 
ing with  a  i)hysician  should  the  doubtful  symptoms 
persist.  It  should  be  well  understood  that  such  obser- 
vations as  the  parent  and  teacher  can  make  are  only 
prc:liminary  to  the  physician's  examination,  and  that 
it  is  unsafe  for  a  tyro  to  adopt  on  his  own  responsibility 
any  course  of  treatment.  The  object  is  not  to  get  rid 
of  the  i^hysician,  but  to  sa\'e  children  from  the  sulTer- 
ing  due  to  the  neglect  of  unhi-althy  conditions  which 
arise  from  our  inability  to  know  when  they  exist.     We 

32 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS 


33 


wish  to  sharpen   our  eyes   to  see  wron^  conditions  so 
that  they  may  be  more  speedily  relieved. 

First  should  be  considered   the  senses  of  sight  and 
hearing.     Ihc  eye  and  the  ear  are  the  principal  chan- 
nels through  which  our   knowledge  comes, 
and  if  either  of  them  is  defective,  thej:hild  senses.^ 

is  seriously  hampered  in  all  his  work.  He 
himself  is  not  likely  to  know  whether  his  eyes  and  ears 
are  perfect,  unless  they  pain  him,  for  he  is  accustomed 
to  his  condition,  and  naturally  supposes  it  to  be  like 
every  one  else's.  We  older  people  must  therefore 
watch  over  him. 

For  defective  eyesight,  notice  the  position  of  each 
child  when  reading  or  writing  at  his  seat.  His  eyes 
should  be  about  one  foot  from  his  book  or  paper.  .  If 
the  distance  varies  much  from  this,  he  should  be  given 
special  tests  as  follows: 

Nearsight  (myopia).  Use  Snellen's  type  test  card* 
for  this,  having  the  child  read  the  various  lines  of  type 
at  the  distances  indicated  on  the  card.  If  he  can  not 
see  them  at  those  distances,  he  is  shortsighted  and 
should  be  taken  to  an  oculist  for  more  careful  tests. 
In  reading  the  type,  one  eye  should  be  used  at  a 
time,  the  other  being  left  open,  but  covered  by  a  piece 
of  cardboard. 

Farsight  (hyperopia).  This  may  be  roughly  tested 
by  holding  a  dime  two  feet  before  the  eyes.  If  the 
eyes,  in  looking  at  it,  turn  inwards  in  a  squint,  there 
is  probably  farsight.  It  is  sometimes  supposed  that 
a  farsighted  eye  does  not  need  glasses  as  much  as  a 
nearsighted    one,    because    objects    are    plainly    seen. 

*This  can  be  obtained  from  any  dealer  in  optical  supplies.  It 
costs  from  lo  to  35  cents. 


34 


THE   CHILD 


This  is  a  mistake.  The  farsij^htcd  eye  is  under  a  con- 
stant strain  in  acijustini,'  itself  to  see  any  object  clearly, 
and  this  strain  if  ne<:,dected  causes  headache  and 
nervousness. 

Astigmatism  may  be  tested  by  the  radiating  lines 
shown  on  Snellen's  test  card.  If  these  lines  look 
markedly  different,  there  is  some  astigmatism. 


A  B 

Diagram  j.    Showing  Change  in   Nekve  Cells  Due  to  Age:    A^  Spinal 
Ganglion  Cells  of  a  Still-Born  Male  Child;    B,  Same  of  a  Man 
Dying  at  Ninety-two;  n,  Nuclei.    Magnified  250  Diam.    (Hodge.) 


The  ordinary  test  for  hearing  is  given  by  means  of  a 
watch.  First  see  how  far  a  person  whose  hearing  is 
normal  can  hear  the  watch  that  is  to  be  used.  Then 
test  the  child  with  his  eyes  closed,  in  a  quiet  room. 
We  may  suspect  deafness  if  a  child  seems  dull  or  inat- 
tentive, and  constantly  asks  to  have  things  repeated. 
Not  infrequently  growths  form  in  the  nose,  and  the 
tonsils  enlarge,  causing  a  deafness  that  is  easily  cured. 

In  all  these  cases,  the  tests  are  only  to  ascertain 
whether  a  physician's  care  is  needed.  The  teacher 
can  give  a  child   a  front  seat  if  he  is  deaf,  or  a  well- 


ABNORMAL    BODILY    CONDITIONS 


35 


lighted  seat  if  his   eyesight  is  poor,  but  such  measures 
are  of  little  use  unless  curative  treatment  is  also  given. 

When  any  part  of  the  body  is  working,  patigue:  its 
the  cells  of  which  it  consists  are  used  up;  cause  and 
their  structure  is  changed  and  new  sub-  significance, 
stances,  some  of  them  poisonous  in  nature,  are  formed. 
The  nerve  cells  decrease  in  size  and  some  of  their 
connections  with  other  nerve  cells  arc 
temporarily  broken.  (See  Diagrams  3 
and  4.) 

If  work  is  continued,  the  change  or 
tearing  down  of  the  cell  goes  on  faster 
than  material  to  rebuild  it  can  be  fur- 
nished by  the  blood;  the  waste  material 
or  poison  is  left  in  part  about  the  cell, 
instead  of  being  carried  off  to  the  excre- 
tory organs,  and  in  small  part  is  absorbed 
by  other  parts  of  the  body  through  which 
the  blood  passes.  We  then  have  the  con- 
dition known  as  fatigue. 

It  is  evident  that  fatigue  must  follow 
as  the  result  of  use  of  any  part  of  the 
body,  and  as  exercise  is  one  of  the  con- 
ditions of  growth,  it  is  also  evident 
that  fatigue  is  not,  by  itself,  an  unhealthy 
condition.  \'  When  it  sets  in,  we  know 
that  our  expenditure  is  beginning  to 
exceed  our  income,  and  while  we  may 
borrow  and  live  for  a  time  on  our  reserve 
in  the  bank  of  health,  it  behooves 
us  to  not  overdraw.  No  disease  is  so 
difficult  to  recover  from  entirely  as  ner- 
vous exhaustion. 


e 

DiAC.RAM    4. 

Showing  Change 
in  the  nuclei:s  of 
A  Frog's  Nekve 
Cell  During 
Seven  Hours  Con- 
tinuous Electri- 
cal Stimulation. 
(Hodge.) 


-jg  THE   CHILD 

The  amount  of  work  which  causes  fatigue  has  been 
the  subject  of  careful   experiment,  so  far  as  fatigue  of 
the    muscles    is    concerned,    and    of   wide- 
Conditions      gp,-^>-i^i  though  not  so  scientific,  observations 
of  fatigue.  ^  . 

on  mental  fatigue.      It  has  been  found  that 

ill  the  exercise  of  any  muscle  fatigue  begins  to  show 
after  ten  or  fifteen  seconds  in  a  lowering  of  the  rate  of 
movement.  After  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  the  reduc- 
tion is  considerable,  but  is  slower  afterwards.  There 
is  also  a  phenomenon  comparable  to  the  second  wind 
in  running.  A  muscle  can  be  exercised  to  the  point 
where  the  utmost  effort  of  the  will  is  hardly  enough  to 
raise  the  rate  perceptibly.  If,  nevertheless,  one  con- 
tinues to  move  it  as  much  as  is  possible,  it  will,  after  a 
short  time,  recover  in  part  its  original  freshness  and 
move  almost  as  rapidly  and  as  easily  as  at  first.  This 
will  happen  ten  or  fifteen  times  before  permanent 
fatigue  ensues. 

It  is  still  open  to  question  how  far  exercise  of  any 
one  set  of  muscles  wearies  the  entire  body.  It  does 
so  to  some  extent,  doubtless,  because  the  poisons 
given  off  by  the  muscles  in  use  are  taken  up  by  the 
blood  and  partially  absorbed  by  those  parts  of  the 
body  through  which  the  blood  passes.  It  seems  likely 
that  exercise  of  the  right  hand  wearies  the  left  hand 
to  some  degree.  Many  insist  that  the  left  side  of  the 
body  is  more  developed  than  it  would  be  as  the 
result  of  its  own  exercise,  and  that  this  is  due  to  the 
reaction  u[)on  it  of  the  exercise  of  the  right  side. 

In  mental  fatigue,  as  in  physical,  the  immediate 
condition  is  the  tearing  down  of  the  nervous  structures 
more  rapidly  than  they  are  being  built  up,  but  a 
great  variety  of  causes   may    lead    to  this    condition. 


ABNORMAL   BODILY   CONDITIONS 


37 


Prominent    among    them    arc:      Overwork;    too    long 
hours  of  work   and   too   much    to  do  in    those    hours; 
excessive  worry  over  a  reasonable  amount     conditions 
of  work;    wasteful    methods   of   work;   not     of  mental 
enough  work  or  not    enough  variety   in    it;       ^   ^^®" 
a  nervous  system  so  much  below  par  that   it   can    not 
do  even  a  rational  amount  of  work. 

There  has  been  of  late  years  a  great  outcry  against 
the  public  schools  on   the  charge  of  overwork.     It  is 
claimed    that    they    are   fast   reducing    our  ovorworkin 
children  and  youth  to  nervous  wrecks  and  the  public 
that  this  is  true  not  only  of  Americans  but  ^<^^°°^^' 
of  English  and  Germans  as  well.     The  nervousness  of 
children    increases    in    direct    ratio   to   the   number  of 
years  that  they  are  in  school.     Their  weight  and  appe- 
tite diminish  from  the  beginning  of  the  school  year  to 
the  end,    especially  just   before   examinations.     They 
have  nightmares,   grinding  of  the   teeth  and   tremors 
even  where  they  have  no  well-defined  nervous  disease. 

All  these  things  seem  to  many  physicians  the  direct 
result  of  too  much  study.  In  many  schools,  children 
even  as  young  as  nine  years  are  expected  to  do  some 
home  study,  and  from  that  age  on  the  amount  of  it 
increases  constantly. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  demand  is  constantly  made 
by  superintendents  and  parents  that  this  or  that  new 
study  shall  be  introduced  into  school.  The  trades-unions 
want  manual  training;  the  mothers  want  music  and 
drawing;  the  colleges  demand  languages  and  science. 
And  yet  children  leave  school  with  the  merest  smatter- 
ing of  each  subject  and  without  knowing  how  to  write 
a  letter  correctly.  Is  the  rising  generation  stupid  that 
it  gets  nervous  exhaustion  in  learning  nothing? 


38 


THE   CHILD 


This    leads    directly    to    the    claim    made    by   many 

observant    parents   and    teachers   that    the   undeniably 

bad  nervous   condition  of  main'  children  is 
Overworry, 

not  over-  not  SO  much  duc  to  the  amount  that  they  are 
^°^^'  expected  to  learn  as  to  the  conditions  under 

which  they  work.  These  bad  conditions  may  be  either 
physical  or  mental.  Under  mental  conditions  must  be 
included  such  things  as  Fear — fear  of  the  teacher's 
displeasure  and  of  not  passing  examinations — and 
Rivalries — the  intense  desire  for  good  marks,  the  con- 
sequent worry  over  inability  to  prepare  a  lesson,  and 
the  intense  chagrin  at  failures  in  recitation  or  exam- 
ination. Such  conditions  are  thoroughly  artificial  and 
the  combined  efforts  of  teachers  and  parents  should  be 
directed  towards  removing  them.  Children  should  feel 
that  they  are  in  school  primarily  to  learn,  not  to  show 
off,  and  that  a  confession  of  ignorance  after  an  honest 
attempt  to  get  knowledge  is  not  a  disgrace.  A  give 
and  take  among  the  pupils  in  helping  each  other  can 
also  be  established  in  any  school  and  family,  to  replace 
the  rivalries  and  fears  of  the  other  system  and  to 
remove  one  of  the  great  sources  of  worry. 

Not  uncommonly  we  find  that  a  child  who  seems  to 
be  up  to  the  average  in   brightness  takes  two  or  three 

Wasteful  ^'"''^'^  ^^  ^°"S  ^^^  prepare  a  lesson  as 
methods  of  another  child.  This  maybe  due  to  bad 
^^^^y-  nervous    conditions,    which   we   shall   con- 

sider soon,  or  to  ignorance  of  how  to  study.  In  the 
latter  case,  we  find  that  the  eyes  are  constantly  wan- 
dering from  the  book,  and  that  there  are  frequent 
lapses  into  day  dreams.  Even  when  there  is  a  fair 
amount  of  interest  in  the  subject  of  study,  there  seems 
to  be  an  inability  to  think   about  one  thing  for  more 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS  ^C) 

than  a  few  minutes.  The  I)c'st  thin,i;  to  do  with  such  a 
child  is  to  study  with  him  tor  a  time,  showinj,^  him  how 
to  look  for  important  i)()ints  and  how  to  connect  them 
with  other  thinj^^s  that  he  knows.  Under  our  present 
school  conditions,  this  is  especially  the  work  of  the 
parents.  Under  ideal  conditions,  it  mi«;ht  be  the  work 
of  the  teacher,  but  now  she  has  no  time  in  her  day 
when  such  work  can  be  done. 

Certain  patient  German  observ^ers  experimented  upon 
school  children  by  givin^^  them  columns  of  figures  to 
add  for  two  hours,  or  copying  to  do  for  the 
same  length  of  time.     They  found  such  an      ^f°^ork°^ 
appalling  increase   in   the   number  of   mis- 
takes  made   by  the  end  of   the   second    hour  that  they 
forthwith   concluded   that   our    schools    should   all    be 
closed  or  in  ten  years  no  children  would  be  left  alive. 
However,  they  made  the  fundamental  mistake  of  sup- 
posing that  two  hours  made  up  of  a  variety  of  subjects 
would   be   as   fatiguing   as   two   hours  of  one   subject. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  variety,  while  not  a  complete  rest, 
is  a  partial  rest,  and  should  be  carefully  observed   in 
making  out  a  school   program  or  in  planning  a  day's 
work  for  a  child.      It  is  believed  that  the  best  hours  of 
work  are  from  nine  to  eleven;  the  next  best  from  three 
to  four;  and  the  poorest  from  eleven  to  twelve.     If  we 
considered  this  in  connection  with  the  requirement  of 
variety,  we  should  have  a  day's  program  in  which  the 
most  difficult  subjects  were  put  from   nine  to  eleven; 
from  eleven  to  twelve  an  hour  should  be  given  to  sub- 
jects much  less  taxing,  like  drawing,  which  also  gives 
some  of  the  relief  of  handwork   after  the  hard  mental 
work.      In  the  afternoon,  the  order  would  be  reversed, 
the  easy  subjects  first,  and  the  more  difficult  ones  later. 


AQ  THE   CHILD 

In  the  demand  for  variety  we  find  still  another  argu- 
ment  for  handwork,  drawing,  and  music.  If  any  pari 
of  the  body  is  left  unused  for  any  length  of  time,  there 
is  an  irritability,  a  cry  for  exercise  from  the  neglected 
organ.  If  only  one  or  a  few  parts  of  the  brain  are 
used,  they  are  over-exercised  and  other  parts  are  not 
exercised  enough.  The  result  is  excessive  weariness 
on  one  side,  and  an  almost  uncontrollable  desire  for 
activity  on  the  other.  A  child  brought  up  in  but  one 
line  of  thought  and  action  is  nearly  sure  to  go  to 
extremes  in  other  directions  as  soon  as  the  external 
repression  is  removed.  To  get  a  balanced,  controlled 
character,  we  must  cultivate  a  variety  of  interests  in 
thought  and  in  action. 

Finally,  lack  of  interest  is  perhaps  the  most  power- 
ful  single   factor   in  producing  mental  fatigue.      The 
horrible  weariness,  the  indescribable  sense 
Interest.  of   imprisonment   to  which  a  child    is  sub- 

jected who  is  forced  to  a  study  which  he 
does  not  like,  is  something  that  we  grown-ups  will  not 
ourselves  .endure  at  all.  While  I  do  not  think  that 
the  school  should  be  a  caterer  to  the  i)assing  fancies 
of  its  pupils,  I  do  believe  that  a  better  arrangement  of 
our  curriculum,  and  wiser  and  more  individual 
methods  of  teaching  would  reveal  many  interests  in 
children  which  now  we  do  not  suspect  them  of  having. 
A  closer  connection  of  the  school  with  the  life  of  the 
home  and  the  village  or  city  and  a  stronger  appeal 
to  the  children's  love  of  doing  would  accomplish 
much. 

It  seems  probable,  then,  upon  consideration  of  the 
various  causes  of  mental  fatigue,  that  if  the  conditions 
tor  work  were  improved  by  removing  causes  for  worry, 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS 


41 


by  inculcatin.i,^  correct  habits  of  stud)-  and  by  arranging 
the  curriculum  so  that  it  should  ai)peal  to  natural, 
permanent,  and  valuable  interests,  fatigue  would 
not  be  as  prevalent  among  school  children  as  it  now 
is.  This  is  true  in  schools  where  these  changes  have 
been  made,  and  in  less  time,  more  work  is  done  with 
more  lasting  effects  than  under  other  conditions.  The 
plea  thatwc^  shoukl  make, therefore,  is  not  for  a  shorter 
school  day,  but  for  a  different  one  — one  full  of  inter- 
esting work  and  free  from  worries. 
jBesides  these  bad  mental  conditions,  there  are  cer- 
tain ph}'sical  causes  of  fatigue  which  are  easily  reme- 
died and  vet  are  commonlv  neglected.  The 
r-  r      1'  ■      1       1       •      1'      1  1  1    Physical  cau- 

nrst  or   thc:se   is   bad   air    both  at  home  and  sesof  mental 

at   school.     Why   is   it   that  the  American,   fatigue. 

,  II     '  1  1      A  •  •  1-  Bad  air. 

e\'en    the   well-educated    American,    is    so 

i'.isi'nsitixe  to  the  need  of  pure  air?  Is  it  because  he 
breathes  badly  and  has  his  sense  of  smell  dulled  by 
catarrh?  There  must  be  some  other  explanation  than 
that  of  ignorance,  for  the  air  even  of  most  homes  is  not 
pure,  and  it  is  rare  indeed  to  go  into  a  schoolroom 
where  the  air  is  not  impure.  Many  a  sensible,  well- 
educated  man  and  woman  goes  to  bed  night  after 
night  with  closed  doors  and  windows,  and  many  a 
house-keeper,  exemplary  in  other  respects,  never 
feels  the  need  of  throwing  the  house  open  to  the  air 
and  sun. 

The  simplest  test  for  [^ure  air  is  that  the  air  in  a 
room  shall  smell  fresh  upon  coming  in  from  outdoors. 
Even  in  winter  time  this  is  easy  to  secure.  Have 
boards  about  four  inches  wide  fitted  into  the  bottom  of 
the  window  casings,  and  let  the  windows  rest  on  them 
instead  of  closing  down.     This  secures  a  current  of  air 


4^ 


THE   CHILD 


at  the  top,  between  the  two  sashes,  and  ventilates  an 
ordinary  living  or  sleeping  room.  There  is  usually  no 
reason  why  a  window  should  not  be  open  an  inch  or 
two  in  a  bed-room  at  night,  even  in  the  coldest  weather; 
but  if  that  demaiuis  too  much  courage,  at  least  the 
door  can  be  open  and  a  window  in  some  other  part 
of  the  house  opened  to  lead  to  a  circulation  of  the  air. 

In  the  schoolroom  there  is  usually  an  inadequate 
system  of  ventilation.  Architects  do  not  consider,  in 
their  estimate  of  the  necessary  supply  of  air,  the 
amount  that  is  befouled  by  the  bodies  and  clothes  of 
the  pupils.  They  consider  only  the  nice,  clean, 
healthy  child,  who  is,  in  the  city  at  any  rate,  the 
exception.  As  a  result,  the  air  in  most  schools  is 
heavy  from  the  first  half  hour  after  school  opens  to  the 
end  of  the  day.  Then  the  janitor  locks  in  the  bad  air 
to  be  used  again  the  next  morning. 

Supplement  this  defective  ventilation  by  opening 
windows  at  every  recess  and  noon,  and  see  to  it  that 
the  room  is  thoroughly  aired  at  night.  If  the  room  is 
made  too  cold  for  the  pupils  by  this  constant  airing, 
warm  them  by  some  vigorous  gymnastics,  and  particu- 
larly by  breathing  exercises.  The  fresh,  invigorating 
oxygen  will  soon  reconcile  them  to  the  slightly  lowered 
temperature. 

The  great  importance  of  the  air  sui)ply  lies  in  the 
fact  that  air  that  has  once  been  breathed  is  deficient 
in  oxygen,  which  is  one  of  the  most  important  constit- 
uents in  building  up  nervous  and  muscular  tissue.  A 
person  who  breathes  impure  air  five  or  six  hours  a  day 
soon  feels  dull  all  the  time.  He  can  not  think  clearly 
or  rapidly  because  the  brain-centers  are  not  properly 
fed,  and   his  stupidity  may  become   permanent.      His 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS 


43 


resistance  to  disease  is  lessened  and  he  is  subject  to 
headaches  and  numerous  minor  evils.  Therefore  in 
order  to  ward  off  fatigue  and  its  consecjuent  nervous 
conditions,  cultivate  in  children  deep  breathing  and  its 
accompanying  love  of  pure  air. 

Habitual   postures  are  now  recognized  as  the  cause 
of  much  fatigue  and  even  of  actual  disease,  particularly 
of  various  forms  of  curvature  of  the  spine. 
Twenty   to  thirty  per  cent  of  high-school 
children  have  curvatures  of  the  spine  as  the  result  of 
improperly  made  seats. 

The  most  healthy  posture  in  standing  and  sitting  is, 
presumably,  the  symmetrical  one,  in  which  both  halves 
of  the  body  have  the  same  position,  because  then  the 
muscles  on  the  two  sides  will  be  used  alike,  and  all 
strain  will  be  equally  distributed.  Variations  from  such 
a  position  should  be  compensated  by  the  two  sides 
alternating  in  the  unsymmetrical  position. 

The  best  position  in  lying  is  still  a  matter  of  dispute. 
•  Some  maintain  that  the  symmetrical  position  here  also 
is  the  best,  the  person  lying  either  on  back  or  abdomen. 
Others  claim  that  lying  on  the  back  keeps  the  spinal 
cord  unduly  heated  and  irritable,  while  lying  on  the 
abdomen  compresses  both  stomach  and  lungs.  They 
therefore  advocate  a  position  on  either  the  right  or  left 
side.  The  truth  of  the  case  probably  is  that  the  best 
position  for  each  individual  will  depend  somewhat  upon 
his  bodily  characteristics.  There  can  be  no  question, 
however,  but  that  lying  on  the  back  or  abdomen  allows 
the  most  complete  muscular  relaxation,  and  it  seems 
doubtful  whether  there  is  any  real  harm  done  to  spinal 
cord,  or  stomach,  or  lungs,  provided  they  were  in  good 
condition  at  the  start. 


44 


IHE   CHILD 


rractically  all  i)h>'sicians  a.^rcc  that  in  order  to  be 
both  comfortably  and  coircctly  seated,  there  must  be 
certain  relations  between  the  size  and  sha[)e  of  the  seat 
and  the  person.  The  hei<^ht  of  the  seat  should  be  the 
same  as  the  length  of  the  lej^',  mcMsured  from  the  under 
side  of  the  bent  knee  to  the  sole;  the  depth  from  front 
to  back  of  the  seat  should  be  only  enough  so  that  the 
entire  back  can  rest  against  it,  and  the  seat-back  should 
follow  the  curves  of  the  spine.  If  the  seat  is  too  high, 
there  is  constant  strain  in  the  attempt  to  keep  the  feet 
on  the  floor,  and  a  strong  tendency  to  slip  forward  in 
the  chair  and  sit  on  the  end  of  the  spine.  This  alone 
may  lead  to  tenderness  of  the  spinal  cord  and  conse- 
quent nervousness.  If  the  seat  is  too  long  from  front 
to  back,  the  same  thing  occurs. 

The  desk  should  be  of  such  a  height  that  when  the 
elbow  rests  at  the  side,  bent  at  right  angles,  it  can  lie 
on  top  of  the  desk.  The  desk  should  slope  one  inch 
in  si.x,  and  should  overlap  the  seat  by  at  least  two 
inches.  If  the  desk  is  higher  than  this,  it  raises  the  ' 
elbow  and  brings  a  needless  strain  upon  the  back  mus- 
cles. If  it  is  too  far  in  front  of  the  seat,  the  child  is 
obliged  to  perch  on  the  seat-edge  in  order  to  write, 
and  all  the  back  muscles  are  severely  strained.  He 
shcjuld  be  able  to  write  while  leaning  back  in  the  chair. 

These  requirements  are  the  same  for  both  children 
and  adults,  but  are  of  especial  importance  for  children, 
because  the  body  is  more  plastic,  and  more  easily 
changed  in  shape,  and  because  children  become 
fatigued  more  easily  than  their  elders. 

Such  seats  as  these  here  described  should  be  secured 
for  all  schools.  If  possible,  they  should  be  adjustable, 
so  that  each  child  can  be  fittctl  to  a  scat.     Where   that 


ABNORMAL   BODILY   CONDITIONS 


45 


expense  is  too  great,  each  rcKMii  should  have  at  least  a 
few  adjustable  seats,  so  that  the  unusually  \i\v<^c  and 
small  pupils  can  be  suited.  This  is  better  than  having 
no  fitting  whatever  of  the  seat  to  the  pupil. 

In   discussing   the  causes  of  fatigue  before  the  signs 
l)y  which   we  may  know  it,  we  may  seem  to  have   put 
the  cart  before  the   horse,  but   the  transi- 
tion   from    healthy  fatigue   to  over-fatigue,  fatigue, 
nervousness,  and   nervous  exhaustion  is  so 
gradual  that  it  seems  better  to  discuss  them  together. 

Any  person  who  lives  with  children  at  all  knows  the 
first  signs  of  fatigue.  A  child  becomes  inattentive  and 
fidgety.  Ideas  not  related  to  the  lesson  keep  coming 
into  his  mind  and  he  can  with  difficulty  give  even  out- 
ward attention,  because  his  muscles  are  tired  and 
demand  constant  movements  to  ease  them.  If  a  five- 
minute  recess  is  given  at  this  point,  there  will  be  a 
noticeable  recovery  of  attention  and  of  control  of  the 
body.  On  this  account,  more  advantage  is  gained 
from  a  short  recess  every  hour  than  from  one  long 
recess  midway  in  the  session. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  work  is  persisted  in  without  a 
rest,  a  child  becomes  more  inattentive,  fidgety,  and 
irritable,  and  less  sensitive.  Careful  tests  show  that  a 
weary  person's  skin  is  not  as  sensitive  to  touch,  and 
that  his  eye  cannot  distinguish  colors  as  well  as  when  he 
is  fresh.  The  tired  person  has  not  as  good  a  hand-grip  or 
muscular  control  as  the  rested  one.  This  shows  in  the 
schoolroom  when  the  tired  child  is  duller  in  recitation 
and  more  awkward  and  untidy  in  moving  about  the 
room,  in  writing,  etc.,  than  at  other  times.  Such  a 
child  is  also  more  likely  to  be  impertinent  and  undis- 
ciplined than  when  rested  and  "fit."      A  good   night's 


THE   CHILD 


46 

rest  and  plenty  of  the  right  sort  of  food  should  restore 
the  normal  energy. 

If  even  now  he  has  no  chance  to  rest,  other  symptoms 
appear.  He  may  have  trouble  in  remembering  the 
names  of  familiar  persons  and  objects.  He  is  almost 
sure  to  forget  quickly  what  he  has  learned.  He  is 
likely  to  be  very  irritable  and  to  pass  quickly  from  the 
gayest  to  the  most  sorrowful  mood.  He  will  probably 
have  bad  dreams  and  sleep  uneasily.  On  the  motor 
side,  he  will  be  even  more  fidgety  than  at  first.  Certain 
movements,  such  as  swinging  the  foot  or  twitching 
the  fingiTs  will  be  kept  up  incessantly.  The  facial 
expressicjii  will  become  exaggerated — the  eyebrows 
twitching,  the  forehead  set  in  a  frown,  the  lips  com- 
pressed, the  nostrils  dilated.  The  whole  body  will  be 
in  a  tense  condition  even  when  the  child  is  doing 
nothing  or  is  asleep. 

Such  a  child  is  decidedly  nerx'ous,  although  he  may 
not  as  yet  have  any  nervous  disease.  He  must  be 
carefully  watched  and  relieved  from  worry  and  fear, 
but  kept  pleasaiitl)'  occupied.  Every  effort  should  be 
used  to  build  up  bone,  muscle  and  fat.  Stimulating 
foods,  and  coffee,  tea,  and  chocolate,  sht)uld  be 
avoided.  Long  hours  of  sleep  should  be  secured.  Such 
sensitive  children  are  at  once  the  promise  and  the 
danger  of  the  next  generation.  They  may  degenerate 
into  hysterical  wrecks,  or  become  the  leaders  of  society. 

When  actual  disease   begins,  the  symptoms   already 

described    become    still    more    pronounced.       On    the 

mental    side   thev  are   not   likely  to  be  evi- 
Signs  of  -  ■' 

nervous  dent  unless  the  parents  have  the  complete 

disease.  confidence  of  their  child.    Groundless  fears, 

hallucinations,    forgetfulness,    and   all    sorts  of  vague, 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS  AJ 

uncomfortable  feelings  that  make  him  cross  without 
his  knowin}^  why,  constitute  the  sad  inner  life  of  the 
child  who  is  becomin*;-  nervously  exhausted.  His  body 
may  feel  numb  and  lame,  or  may  be  very  sensitive  and 
sore  to  the  touch.  In  either  case  there  are  usually 
skin  eruptions,  especially  on  the  chest,  back  and  arms. 
There  will  be  either  excessive  perspiration  or  dryness 
of  the  skin.  There  will  also  be  twitchini;-  of  the  mus- 
cles or  even  convulsions. 

A  child  who  has  any  of  these  symptoms  well 
marked  and  permanent,  should  be  put  under  the  care 
of  a  physician  at  once,  and  parents  should  carefully 
watch  a  nervous  child  to  prevent  such  a  condition  from 
arising.  It  comes  on  so  gradually  and  insidiously 
that  neither  child  nor  parents  are  likely  to  appreciate 
the  change.  It  is,  however,  of  the  utmost  importance 
that  treatment  be  begun  early,  for  if  genuine  nervous 
exhaustion  occurs,  it  is  doubtful  whether  entire  recov- 
ery is  possible. 

In  the  conditions  so  far  discussed,  we  have  consid- 
ered only  children  who,  although  fatigued,  nervous  or 
nervously    exhausted,    still    might,     under  pg^uiiar  and 

proper   treatment,  be  made    well-balanced,   exceptional 

,  1  ,-  •    .  T^i  •       Children, 

normal    members    of    society.       ihere    is, 

however,  a  large  class  of  children  who,  owing  usually 
to  some  inherent  nervous  defect,  stand  on  the  border- 
land between  the  abnormal  and  the  normal,  with  cer- 
tain tendencies  toward  the  abnormal.  It  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  classify  such  children,  but  most  of  them  seem 
to  tend  toward  one  of  three  groups:  (i)  The  eccentric 
person  or  crank,  who  has  a  marked  individuality, 
without  being  original  or  inventive,  and  who  may 
become  insane  in  later  life;  (2)  the  idiot  or  imbecile; 
4 


48 


THE    CHILD 


(3)  tlic  criminal.  Notice  that  I  say  only  that  the  child 
seems  to  ttiul  toward  one  of  these  groups.  How  much 
education  can  do  toward  correcting  such  tendencies 
is  a  matter  that  civilized  nations  are  only  just  begin- 
ning to  consider. 

Doubtless  it  seems  surprising  to  place  the  criminal 
with  the  other  two  classes.  Further  investigation  may 
change  the  classification,  but  as  our  knowledge  stands 
now,  there  are  certain  physical  conditions  common  to 
all.  Adults  of  these  classes  and  children  who  show 
such  tendencies  are,  as  a  rule,  below  the  average  in 
height  and  weight.  They  are  likely  to  have  some 
marked  bodily  asymmetry  or  defect,  such  as  a  high 
palate  or  a  misshapen  head.  They  frequently  have 
some  serious  nervous  trouble,  hallucinations,  epileptic 
attacks,  convulsions,  or  some  other  form  of  disease 
showing  nervous  instabilit)'.  They  are  unlikely  to 
resemble  others  of  their  own  family,  and  they  in  turn 
will  have  few^  if  any  children.  They  seem  to  be,  in 
short,  deviations  from  the  normal  in  most  respects, 
deviations  which,  by  their  own  defects,  will  die  out  in 
the  course  of  a  few  generations. 

It  is  impossible  to  explain  in  detail  what  conditions 
produce  these  exceptional  classes.  Most  physicians 
agree  that  there  is  some  nervous  heredity,  but  beyond 
this  there  is  wide  divergence  of  opinion.  Whether 
such  heredity  will  lead  to  a  genius,  an  imbecile  or  a 
criminal,  no  one  can  foretell.  It  is  not  uncommon  to 
find  two  of  the  three  types  in  om;  family. 

We  can,  however,  say  certainly  that  the  children  of 
nervous  parents  will  themselves  be  nervous,  and  the 
more  so  if  the  parents,  especially  the  father,  are  old. 
If  such   children   turn   out  to  be  exceptional,  parents 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS 


49 


and  teacher  have  one  of  the  most  serious  problems  on 
their  hands,  for  as  the  child  contains  great  possibilities 
for  good  or  evil,  so  does  he  need  especial  care. 

We  need  not  reiterate  the  importance  of  good  food, 
good  air,  and  exercise  for  such  a  child.  Just  in  pro- 
portion as  he  is  unusual,  does  he  need  more  Treatment  of 

care   taken    of    his    body.       His    unstable,  the  excep- 

M  i  I  1  1  i    i      tlonal  child, 

easily-overturned  nervous  system  ought  to 

have  all  the  nutrition  possible  without  stimulation. 

For  such  a  child,  however,  the  most  troublesome 
question  is  how  to  treat  him  at  home  and  at  school. 
He  is  always  doing  unusual  or  bad  things.  He  does 
not  get  along  well  with  other  children.  Perhaps  he 
hates  school,  and  he  shows  all  sorts  of  traits  that  make 
him  the  despair  of  all  who  have  to  deal  with  him. 

We  can  do  nothing  whatever  with  such  a  child  until, 
with  the  utmost  patience  and  sympathy,  we  learn  to 
put  ourselves  in  his  place,  to  look  at  things  from  his 
standpoint,  and  to  see  how,  from  that  standpoint,  his 
actions  and  feelings  appear  justifiable.  This  is,  of 
course,  true  in  dealing  with  any  children,  but  the  diflfi- 
culty  in  doing  it  is  not  usually  so  great  as  with  the 
peculiar  child.  To  put  ourselves  in  his  place,  we  must 
get  his  confidence,  and  at  the  same  time  do  some 
unobserved  observing  and  experimenting,  to  find  out 
his  real  interests  and  make  use  of  them  to  bring  him 
into  closer  relations  with  other  people.  In  every  way 
such  a  child  should  be  led  to  feel  that  he  is  a  valued 
and  needed  member  of  society  and  that  his  greatest 
happiness  is  in  serving  others.  The  criminal  is  avow- 
edly anti-social;  the  genius  is  too  often  solitary,  if  he 
is  not  in  open  opposition  to  his  time.  Children  with 
such   tendencies,  need,    therefore,    not    to    be   marked 


rQ  THE   CHILD 

out  and  set  apart  from  thrir  little  world,  but   rather  to 

be-  bound  to  it  bv  infinite-  ties  of  service  and  affection. 

Nothin<4   will    help   an   unbalanced   person   to  keep  his 

self-control    so   much    as   the   knowledi^^e   that    he    has 

duties    and    obligations,    provided   that   the   service  be 

not  so  strenuous  as  to  become  a  source  of  worry. 

But    there    is    still    a   sad   remnant  of  children  who, 

with    our    present    knowledj^e,  are  uneducable,  or  edu- 

cable  only  to  a  small  degree.   They  are  of  all 

"^^^         .        "-rades  from   the  child  who  is  only  stupid, 
degenerate.      ^  ,        i  '         i     i 

and    can   do   the;    reL,fular    scliool    work    l^y 

havinf,r  more  time  than  the  other  children,  through  the 

various  classes  of  the   feeble-minded   and   imbecile,  to 

the  idiot  who,  a  mere  animal,   can   not  be  taught  the 

simplest  acts  in  caring  for  himself.      For  such  children 

we   feel   more   and   more  the  need  of  special  schools 

and  special  methods  of  instruction.      In   some   of  our 

public  schools,  they  are   now  assigned  a  special    room 

and  teacher,  and  this  should  always  be  done. 

Another  class  of  degenerates  consists  of  those  whose 
criminal  tendencies  can  not  be  corrected.  It  is  diflficult 
for  the  optimist  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  heredi- 
tary criminals,  and  it  is  possible  that  with  more  knowl- 
edge of  the  proper  conditions  for  his  life,  the  so-called 
hereditary  criminal  may  be  made  a  good  member  of 
society.  But  under  present  conditions,  it  is  too  true 
that  certain  children  conceived  in  wickedness  and  born 
into  sin  are  beyond  our  reach  by  the  time  they  are  ten 
or  eleven  years  of  age. 

As  the  causes  of  degeneracy  are  studied,  more  and 
more  do  we  realize  how  the  sin  or  defect  of  the  par- 
ents is  "visited  upon  the  children  even  unto  the  third 
and    fourth    generation."      Like   begets,  not  like,    but 


ABNORMAL    BODILY    CONDITIONS 


51 


similar.     The  parent  with   any  iorm  of  nervous  defect 
passes  it  on,  but  in  the  child  it  may  assume  almost  any 
other  form.     For  example,  statistics  on  the 
children  of  parents  one  or  both   of  whom  Jggenera^. 
were  congenitally  deaf,  show  that  of  their 
children,  a  much  higher  per  cent  than  normal  were,  not 
deaf,  but  imbecile, epileptic,  and  criminal.  The  children 
of  drunkards   may  be,   not   drunkards,  but   imbeciles, 
criminals  or  epileptics.   Between  60  per  cent  and  80  per 
cent  of  criminals  have  drunkards  for  one  or  both  parents. 

It  is  also  the  case  that  mere  neurotic  temperament 
in  the  parents  predisposes  the  child  to  some  form  of 
degeneracy.  The  defect  of  the  parent,  whether  due  to 
voluntary  causes  or  not,  is  visited  upon  the  child,  and 
if  handed  down  by  the  children,  is  at  last  punished  by 
utter  sterility  in  that  family.  The  criminal,  if  left 
to  breed  only  with  his  own  kind,  would  die  out  in  a 
few  generations,  but  he  is  constantly  recruited  from 
the  borderland  of  the  occasional  criminal. 

Can  there  be  a  stronger  argument  for  building  up 
healthy  bodies  in  ourselves  and  in  our  children  than 
the  knowledge  of  the  close  connection  between  crime 
and  disease?  From  this  standpoint,  it  is  no  slight 
matter  to  teach  a  nervous  child  perfectly  regular  bodily 
habits,  and  to  cultivate  in  him  what  might  be  called  a 
cosmopolitan  appetite  for  all  healthy  foods. 

While  it  is  not  justifiable  for  any  parent  or  teacher 
to  be  ignorant  of  the  greater  perils  and  temptations 
that  fac'e  the  child  of  nervous  temperament 
than  face  the  phlegmatic  child,  neither  qu^iooJ^  ^^ 
must  they  forget  that  under  proper  care 
such  a  child  may  become  a  most  valuable  member  of 
society.     The  very  instal)ility  of  the   nervous  system 


:f2  THE  CHILD 

that  makes  him  so  easily  the  victim  of  liquor  or  vice 
in  any  form,  also  makes  it  easy  for  him  to  adopt  new 
lines  of  action  and  thou<,dit,  that  is,  makes  him  less 
the  slave  of  habit  than  other  people  are  Such  a  per- 
son, when  led  by  hi<^rh  principles  and  love  of  the 
service  of  his  fellows,  becomes  the  hero  and  leader  of 
his  <Teneration.  His  vagrant,  unlawful  impulses  must 
in  his  childhood  be  given  the  balance  wheel  of  a  noble 
ideal,  and  then  we  may  expect  almost  any  good  of  him. 

REFERENCES 

FATIGUE 

Baker,   Smith.      Fatigue   in   School  Children.      £i/.    Rev.,    XI, 

34-39.     (Summary  of  signs  and  dangers  of  fatigue.) 
Donaldson,  H.  H.     Grozcth  of  the  Brain.     (Chapter  on  Fatigue.) 

N.  Y.     Scribners,  $1.25. 
Dresslar,    F.    B.      Fatigue.      Ped.    Sem.,    1892,     102-106.      (Brief 

summary  of  many  authors'  work.) 
Holmes,  Marion.     Fatigue  of  a  School   Hour.     Ped.  Sem.,  Vol. 

HI,  213.     (Supplementary  to  Burgenstein's  experiments.) 
Kratz,  H.  E.     Fatigue  and  Sense  Defects.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1897, 

280-2S4.     (Practical  value  of  testing  the  sen.ses.) 
How  May  Fatigue  be  Reduced?    F^oc.  N.  E.  A.,  1897,  1090- 

T096.     (Practical  Suggestions.) 
Lombard,  W.  P.     Effect  of  Fatigue  on  Voluntary  Muscular  Con- 
tractions.    Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Vol.  Ill,  24-42. 
Lukens,    Herman.      Mental  Fatigue.     Am.   Phys.   Educ.   Rev., 

May  and  June  1S99. 
.School  Fatigue  Question  in  Germany.    Ed.  Rev.,  XV,  246-259. 

(Summary  of  German  investigations.) 
Mosso,  A.     La  Fatigiie  Iniellectuelle  et  Physique.  Paris.  Alcan. 

$0.65. 
O'Shea,  M.  V.     et.  al.     Mental  Fatigue  in  School.     Rep.'of  Com. 

of  lid.,  1895-96,  1175-119S.     (Summary  of  Warner,  Galton 

and  Spitzner.) 
Richter,   Gustav.     Mental   Fatigue  in  Schools.     Rep.  of  Com.  of 

Ed.,  1894-5,  449-460.     (Summary  of  German  Observations, 

especially  Kraepelin's.) 


ABNORMAL   BODILY   CONDITIONS 


5: 


Scripture,  E.  W.  New  Psyc/ioIogy,22?)-2^T.  (Chapter  on  Fatigue.) 
N.  Y.  Scribners,  §1.25.  (Describes  Mosso's  and  Lom- 
bard's experiments.) 

NERVOUS  CONDITIONS 

Aldrich,    Auretta    Roys.     Children    atid   Their    Critics,    N.  Y. 

Harpers,  $0.75.     (Peculiar  Children.) 
Alexander,  H.  C.     Training  and  Environment  as  Correctives  of 

Degeneracy.     Medicine,  i8q6. 
AUbut,  T.   C.      Nervous   Diseases  and  ^lodern  Life.      Eclectic 

Mag.,  May,  1895,  645-49. 
Barr,  M.  W.     Mental  Defectives  and  Social  Welfare.     Pop.  Sc. 

Mo.,  April,  1899,  746-759. 
Bateman,   Frederick.     The   Idiot:    His  Place  in    Creation.     L. 

1882. 
Beach,  F.      Treatment  and  Education  of  Mentally  Eeeble  Chil- 
dren.    London. 
Beard,  G.  M.      Nervous  Exhaustion.     Rockwell,  §2.00. 
Bohannon,  E.  W.     Study  of  Peculiar  and  Exceptional  Children. 

Ped.  Scin.,  1S96-7,  3-60. 
Brigham,  A.     Injluoice  of  Metital  Citlthuition  and  Excitement 

upon  Health.     L.     Hatchards,  $0.60. 
Carmichael,  Jas.  Disease  in  Children.  520-53S.  N.  Y.    Appleton, 

§3.00. 
Clou.ston,  T.  S.     Netiroses  of  Development.    L.    Henry  Lea  Son 

&  Co.,  §5.00. 
Corning,  J.  L.     Brain  Exhaustion.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $2.00. 
Cummings,   Elizabeth.      Public   School  and    Nervous   Children. 

Educational  Mag.,  1886,  Vol.  VI,  549-554. 
Dana,  C.  L.      Text  Book  of  Nervous  Diseases.     N.  Y.     Wood 

&Co. 
Dawson,   G.  E.     Study   in   Youthful   Degeneracy.      Ped.    Sem., 

1896-7,  221-258. 
Deland,  Margaret.     Story  of  a   Child.     (Exceptional   Children.) 

Boston.     Houghton,  $1.00. 
Dupuy.   Eugene.      Heredity   and  Nervous   Diseases.      Pop.  Sc 

Mo.,  July,  1877,  332-339- 
Ellis,  Havelock.      The  Criminal.     (Physical  and  Mental  Charac- 
teristics.)    N.  Y.     Scribners,  §1.25. 
Farr,    Wm.      Vital   Statistics.      Ed.   by  Noel   Humphreys,    for 


^M  THE   CHILD 

Loft.  Su/ii/ary  Inst.    (J.   />'.     Vol.  XXIV.     (Shows  relalion 
of  degeneracy  to  sterility  and  idiocy,  etc.) 

Fay,  Edward  A.  Marnnx'i'  of  Deaf  in  America.  Washington, 
Volta  Bureau,  $5.o(j.  (Shows  relation  of  deafness  to  ster- 
ility and  deafness.) 

Fere,  Ch.  Morbid  Heredity.  Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  July,  1895,  Vol.  XLVII, 
388-390.  (Good.  The  conditions  which  lead  to  morbid 
heredity  and  the  way  to  combat  them  summed  up.) 

Fothergill,  J.  M.  Maintenance  of  Health.  N.  Y.  Putnam  Sons. 
1879.     (Out  of  print.) 

Gower,  W.  R.  Diseases  of  the  Nervous  System.  Phil.  Blakis- 
ton,  $3.00. 

Harris,  E.  Tendency  of  Misdirected  Education  of  Unbalanced 
Mind  to  Produce  Insanity. 

Harris,  W.  T.  Study  of  Arrested  Development  as  Produced  in 
School  Children.     Educ,  1900,  453-4(^)6. 

Ireland,  W.  W.  Mental  Affections  of  Children.  L.  Churchill. 
(Considers  only  idiots  and  feeble-minded  ) 

Knapp,  P.  C.  Influence  of  Overwork  in  Schools.  Poston  Med. 
and  Surg,  four.,  July  9,  1896,  3739. 

Krohn,  \V.  Nervous  Diseases  of  School  Children.  C.  S.  M., 
Vol.  I,  354- 

Lonibro.so,  Cesare.  Man  of  Genius.  N.  Y.  Scribners,  $1.25. 
(Shows  close  relation  between  genius  and  degeneracy.) 

MacKenzie,  R.  L.  Influence  of  School  Life  on  Curvature  of  the 
Spine.  Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1898,  939-948.  (Description  of 
proper  desk  and  seat.) 

MacMillan,  Margaret.  Early  Childhood.  (Chapters  on  Feeble- 
minded Child,  Cost  of  Mental  Effort,  and  Fatigue.)  Syra- 
cuse.    C.  W.  Bardeen.     $1.50.     (Very  simple.) 

Maudsley,  H.  Pathology  of  Mind.  Chap.  VI,  The  Insanity  of 
Early  Life.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  §2.00. 

Mercier,  Chas.  A.  Psychology,  Normal  and  Morbid.  N.  Y. 
Macmillan,  $4.00. 

Monroe,  W.  S.  Cholera  among  School  Children.  Am.  Phys. 
Educ.  Rev.,  Mar.,  1898,  19-24. 

Moore.     Studies  in  Fatigue.    Studies  from  ]'ale  Psy.  I.ab.,'No.lll. 

Nordau,  Max.     Degeneration.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $3. 50. 

Olson,  Marv-  D.  Cigarette  Iwil  and  the  Schools.  C  5.  M.,  Vol. 
Ill,  1-12. 


ABNORMAL    BODILY   CONDITIONS 


55 


Peckham,    Grace.      Nervousness  of   Americans.      Trans,  of  III. 

Soc.  C.  S.,  iSS6,  37-49. 
Rayner,  H.     Early  Recognition  and  Treatment  of  Mental  Defects 

in  Children.     Med.  Mag.,  iSgq,  451-461,  591-600. 
Reynolds,  J.  R.     Influence  of  Tenement  House  Life  on  Nervous 

Condition  of  Children.     Trans  of  III.  Soc.  C.  S.,  Vol.  II,  33. 

(Shows  that  such  children  are  nervous  and  precocious,  and 

.stop  growing  sooner  than  when  under  good  conditions.) 
Royce,  Josiah.      Mental  Defects  and  Disorders  from  Teacher's 

Point  of  View.    Ed.  Rev.,  June-Dec,  1893,  pp.  209,  322,  449 

(Very  stimulating.) 
Ru.ssell,  E.  H.     Exceptional  Children  in   School.     I.d.  Rev.,  VI 

431-442.     (V^ery  suggestive.) 
Shuttleworth,  G.  E.     Menially  Deficient  Children,   Phil.   Blak 

iston,  $1.50. 
Starr,  M.  Allen.     Familiar  Forms  of  Nervous  Disease.    N.  Y 

Wood&  Co.,  §2.50. 
Stevens,  G.  T.     Functional  Nervous  Diseases.     N.  Y.      Apple 

ton,  $2. 50. 
Sudduth,  W.  X.     Nervous  and  Backward   Children.      Trans,  of 

III.  Soc.  C.  S.,  Vol.  I,  354. 
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Index,  Neurasthenia,  etc.)     Phil.     Blakiston,  $10.00. 
Wilmarth,  A.  E.     Examination  of  Brains  of  100  Feeble-Minded 

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millan.     §1.00. 


CHAPTER  IV 
Feelings  and  Ideas  of  Sex 

(If  the  class  is  mixed,  or  is  very  immature,  the  teacher  may 
find  it  wisest  to  omit  class  discussion  of  this  subject.  It  is  one. 
however,  which  particularly  concerns  mothers,  and  a  careful  con- 
sideration and  discussion  of  the  points  made  here  is  urged  upon 
them.  The  evils  here  described  seem  to  be  more  widely  spread 
than  many  of  us  think.) 

EACH  iiK-mbcr  of  the  class  should  write  out 
reminiscences  on  the  followiuL;-  points  and  <,nve 
them  to  the  teacher,  to  illustrate  the  various  points 
Observa-  mentioned  in  the  chapter.  No  names  need 
tions.  be    signed    to    these    papers,    but    the    sex 

should  be  indicated. 

1.  What  was  your  fust  idea  of  "where  the  baby 
came  from?" 

(i)  From  whom  did  you  get  it? 
(2)  If  false,  when  and  why  did  you  become   suspi- 
cious of  the  truth? 

2.  Have  you  any  recollection  of  any  person  ever 
trying  to  teach  you  self-abuse?  If  so,  was  this  person 
a  servant,  another  adult,  or  a  child  companion?  Of 
the  same  or  opposite  sex? 

3.  If  you  were  instructed  by  your  mother  about  the 
reproductive  functions,  what  was  your  feeling  about 
them  when  they  first  api)eare(l? 

4.  If  not, 

( i)  What  was  your  feeling  when  they  first  appeared? 
(2)  Have   you   since   then   come   to   talk  with   her 
about  such  subjects? 
56 


FEELINGS   AND   IDEAS  OF   SEX 


57 


(5)  Do  you  feci  that  she  wronged  you  by  leaving 
you  ignorant? 

(4)  Did  you  neglect  to  care  for  yourself  or 
meet  harm  in  any  way  through  your  igno- 
rance? 

5.  Have  you  yourself  ever  answered  any  of  the 
advertisements  on  this  subject,  or  do  you  know  any- 
one who  has? 

(i)  What  was  your   feeling  toward  the  "Doctor"? 

(2)  Were  you  seriously  alarmed  about  yourself? 

(3)  How  long  did  you  continue  treatment? 

(4)  How  much  money  did  you   pay  for  medicine 

and  advice? 

6.  If  you  have  from  childhood  talked  over  this  sub- 
ject with  your  mother,  write  a  brief  sketch  of  your 
feelings  about  it  as  a  child  and  as  an  adolescent,  and 
especially,  if  you  can,  compare  your  feelings  with 
those  of  some  one  who  was  left  ignorant. 

Every  organ  of  the  body  contributes  its  quota  to  our 
general  bodily  feeling  and  affects  our  state  of  mind, 
although  we  are  not  usually  able  to  single  vagueness  of 
out  each  constituent  and  trace  it  to  its  the  erst  sex 
source.  We  can  not  doubt  that  the  repro-  ^®®^^^ss. 
ductive  organs  add  their  mite  to  this  fund  of  common 
feeling,  for  it  is  impossible  that  any  healthy  organ 
should  exist  without  acting  and  reacting  upon  the  rest 
of  the  body.  Still,  such  feelings  arc  very  vague  in  the 
baby  and  in  the  child.  Children  are  as  ignorant  of 
the  source  of  such  feelings  as  they  are  of  all  the  other 
vague  comforts  and  discomforts  that  make  them  con- 
tented or  cross.  We  all  know  that  modesty  is  not 
an   instinctive   thing,  but   has  to  be  taught  to  the  little 


58 


IHE   CHILD 


child.  On  account  of  this  vagueness,  we  often  assume 
that  children,  u[)  to  the  age  of  adolescence,  are  prac- 
tically sexless.  It  is  doubtless  true  that  sex  character- 
istics are  much  less  marked  before  puberty  than  they 
arc  later,  hut  nevertht'less  there  are  differences  which 
lead  to  chaiacteristic  reactions  for  each  sex.  The 
careful  observation  of  these  differences  is  one  of  the 
things  that  is  still  t(J  be  done  in  Child-.Study. 

As   puberty  approaches,   marked   changes    occur   in 
the  body  and  in  the  accompanying  feelings. 
I.   Physical.      On  the  physical  side  we  find: 

(i)  There  is  great  increase  in  blood  pressure.  In  the 
child,  the  ratio  of  the  heart  to  the  arteries  is 
3525:20;  just  before  puberty,  as  140:  50;  and 
at  maturity,  290:61.  That  is,  in  addition  to 
the  rapid  growth  of  heart  and  arteries  at 
pubert}',  there  is  nearly  three  times  as  much 
blood  pressure. 

(2)  The   number  of   red   corpuscles  in  the   blood  is 

increased.  The  boy  or  girl  of  this  age 
should  not,  therefore,  have  any  tendency  to 
anemia. 

(3)  There  are  usually  rapid  chemical   changes   all 

over  the  body,  as  is  shown  by  a  slightly 
increased  temperature. 

(4)  There  is  probably  a  rapid  growth  of  association 

fibers  in  the  brain. 

(5)  There  is  the  characteristic  change  of  voice  for 

both  boys  and  girls. 

(6)  There  is  a  rapid  growth  of  the  entire  body. 

(7)  Often    there   is   a  decided   change  of  features, 

\\hich  brings  out  family  resemblances  that 
before  were  unnoticed. 


FEELINGS   AND    IDEAS    OF    SEX 


59 


(8)  The   sense   of  touch   becomes   more   keen,  and 

probably  the  other  senses  do  also. 

(9)  Tn   addition  to  these  changes  common   to  both 

boys  and  girls,  there  are  the  changes  peculiar 
to    (\'ich    sex    as    the    reproducti\e    organs 
approach  maturity. 
2.   Mental.     On  the  mental  side,  the  changes  arc  no 
less  marked.     There   is  a  general   mental   restlessness 
which   manifests   itself  most  markedly  in    a   rebellion 
against  authority.     Parental  restraints  which  up  to  now 
have  been  endured,  even  though  not  markedly  benefi- 
cial, become  the  occasion  of  defiance,  and  if  persisted 
in,    too  often   result   in  a  sundering  of  all  confidences 
between  parent  and  child. 

Closely  connected  with  this  mental  restlessness  is 
the  desire  to  lead.  Ambition  arises  and  manifests  itself 
in  numerous  directions — in  the  organizing  of  societies, 
in  extreme  devotion  to  studies,  or,  on  the  other  hand, 
to  the  social  life  of  the  school.  Ideals  hold  strong 
sway  over  the  youthful  mind.  The  attempt  to  reform 
the  world  begins.  The  social  nature,  especially  the 
moral  and  religious  self,  awakens  to  a  new  activity, 
and  there  is  also  in  many  cases  the  beginning  of  a 
genuine  love  for  nature. 

It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say,  indeed,  that  all  of  the 
permanent  interests  of  the  man  have  their  origin  or 
become  greatly  emphasized  at  this  age.  Or,  to  put  it 
negatively,  if  any  given  interest  is  lacking  at  this 
age,  it  is  very  unlikely  to  exist  in  the  mature  man  or 
woman. 

So  far  we  have  discussed  this  matter  from  the  adult's 
standpoint,  but  now  let  us  put  ourselves  into  the  place 
ot  the  child,  and   see  what    his   uninstructed  thoughts 


(^Q  THE    CHILD 

and  fecliiiffs  about  sex  matters  are.     As  we  have  already 

seen,  the  baby  and  the  child   have  only  the  vaguest  of 

sex  feelings,  and  ask  no  questions  about  them.      Every 

child,  however,  is  practically  certain  to  have 

Tbe  child's      his  curiosity  aroused  as  to  where  the  new 
own  feelings.  •'  ,  •  ^i 

brothercomes  from.  He  comes  to  hismother 

or  to  the  nearest  grown  person  with  questions  about 

these  things  just  as  he  goes  to  her  with  questions  about 

everything  else,  for  these  wise  elders  know  everything 

and  are  usually  willing  to  enlighten  his  ignorance.     At 

the   start   he   does   not   have  anything   more  than   the 

healthy    curiosity  which   he   has   on   all   subjects,  and 

whether  he  keeps  a  normal,  sane  attitude  or  is  forced 

into  an  unhealthy  one,  depends  upon  the  sort  of  answer 

that  he  gets  to  his  first  questions. 

These  answers  may,  most  of  them,  be  put  under  two 

heads.     There  is  (i)  the  "Hush!  Hush!"  answer.     Not 

infrequently  a  child  is  told  that  he  ought  to 

J"**™fi^^°^  be  ashamed   of  asking  such  questions,  for 
the  child.  T,       ,  11- 

nice  chddren  never  talk  about  such  thmgs. 

He  is  made  to  feel  that  in  some  mysterious  way  he  has 

done  wrong,  but  his  curiosity  is  left  unsatisfied  and  yet 

is  stimulated  by  the  appearance  of  new  brothers  and 

sisters  for  his  playmates  or  himself,  and  by  the  casual 

remarks  dropped  by  his  elders. 

(2)  The   fairy-tale  answer.      It   may  be  that,  instead 

of  rebuking  the   little  questioner,  the  mother  receives 

him   kindly,  and   tells   him   elaborate  tales  of  how  an 

angel  brought  the  new  baby  down  from  heaven;  or  she 

may  prefer  the  stork  or  the  cabbage-leaf  as   her  da^s- 

cx-machina.     She  flatters  herself  that   thus   she  keeps 

the  confidence  of  her  child  wliik:   still   not  telling  him 

truths  of  which  she  is  herself  half  ashamed. 


PEELINGS   AND    IDEAS   OF    SEX  5  I 

The  final  outcome  is  much  the  same  in  both  cases. 
Both  the  child  who  is  hushed  and  the  child  who  is  given 
the  myth,  get  their  knowledge  of  the 
facts  from  other  sources.  It  is  obtained  th^eciiiid°° 
from  nurse-girls,  servants,  or  other  chil- 
dren, and  is  usually  so  told  and  so  garbled  as  to 
make  the  children  still  more  secret  and  ashamed. 
Obscene  pictirres,  with  their  meaning  obscurely  hinted 
at  by  older  children,  furnish  more  material  for  the 
imagination,  and  so,  by  degrees,  an  exciting  and  per- 
verted picture  of  sex  differences  and  the  meaning  of 
those  differences  is  formed 

Children  thus  get  the  idea  that  there  is  something 
shameful  about  the  facts  of  sex.  They  conceal  their 
thoughts  from  their  parents  and  carry  them  through 
life  or  until  they  chance  to  read  some  rational  book 
upon  the  subject.  The  horrible  and  grotesque  ideas 
which  children  form  when  thus  left  to  themselves  can 
not  be  described.  And  yet,  dreadful  as  they  seem  to 
the  well-informed  person,  we  must  remember  that  they 
are  the  child's  attempt  to  explain  a  most  difficult  sub- 
ject. Any  blame  for  such  ideas  should  attach  to  the 
parents  who  leave  the  child  ignorant,  and  not  to  the 
child. 

If  children  who  are  thus  left  uninstructed  escape  with 
only  the  excitation  of  thought,  many  investigators  would 
consider  them  fortunate  rather  than  otherwise.  Incor- 
rect thoughts  and  excited  imaginations  are  bad  enough, 
out  are  not  so  immediately  dangerous  as  the  forming 
of  bad  sexual  habits,  which  may  end  not  only  in  the  loss 
of  sexual  power,  but  in  nervous  weakness  and  imbecility. 

At  first  thought,  many  people  will  say  that  children 
who  learn  such  habits  must  be  naturally  depraved,  but 


(32  THE    CHILD 

a  closer  examination  of  the  facts  shows  that  this  is  too 

sweeping  an  assertion.     Doubtless  some  children  do 

inherit    passionate   natures   and   are  easily  led   astray, 

but  even  the  best  child  has  a  sex-nature  and  may  be 

taught  to  do  wrong. 

Most  physicians  will  bear  witness  that   the  danger 

here  is  not  an  imaginary  one,  and   Havelock   Ellis's 

.^     ,    investigations  also  show  that  an  alarmingly 
Necessity  of  °  _  °  -^ 

guarding  large  proportion  of  men  and  women  have 
the  child.  ^^  some  time  in  their  lives  been  given  to 
self-abuse,  and  that  in  most  cases  they  acquired  the 
habit  when  children,  without  any  knowledge  of  its 
harmful  nature.  Vicious  servant-girls  employ  it  upon 
children,  to  put  thtmi  to  sleep,  and  teach  the  children 
to  c^uiet  themselves  in  this  way.  The  habit  is  thus 
sometimes  accjuired  by  babies  of  less  than  a  year,  and, 
once  acquired,  is  as  difficult  to  break  off  as  the  drink 
habit.  The  child  can  not  go  to  sleep  without  the 
accustomed  stimulus,  while  with  it  he  becomes  sickly 
and  dull. 

What  is  true  of  the  baby  is  just  as  true  of  the  little 
child.  lie  must  be  guarded  from  evil-minded  servants 
and  children,  and  from  his  own  ignorance.  The  only 
safe  way  to  guard  him  is  to  make  him  feel  that  his 
mother  knows  more  about  this  matter  than  any  one 
else,  and  will  tell  him  about  it. 

The  same  thing  holds  with  far  more  emphasis  for  the 
adolescent.  With  all  the  other  changes  that  occur  at 
adolescence,  there  comes  also  a  great  increase  in  the 
sexual  feelings,  for  which  the  rapid  growth  of  the 
sexual  organs  is  responsible.  It  is  simply  nonsensical 
to  suppose  that  the  adolescent  boy  or  girl  has  any 
instinctive    knowledge  of   what    these    feelings    mean. 


PEELINGS   AND   IDEAS   OF    SEX 


63 


We  all  grant  that,  as  soon  as  it  is  said.  It  follows  then, 
that  if  they  are  left  ignorant,  they  will  either  get 
information  from  some  one  other  than  their  mother,  or 
that  they  will  not  know  how  to  meet  the  new  condi- 
tions which  confront  them.  If  false  explanations  are 
given,  or  if  they  are  left  to  make  up  explanations  for 
themselves,  they  may  do  themselves  serious  harm, 
besides  being  very  unhappy. 

Many  adolescent  boys  and  girls  imagine  that  they 
have  some  fatal  and  shameful  disease,  and  from  these 
the  quack  doctors,  who  publish  the  lurid  j^^^g^^.  from 
advertisements  about  lost  manhood  and  quack 
delicate  womanhood,  make  their  enormous  °^  °"' 
profits.  Perfectly  healthy  boys  and  girls,  who  do  not 
understand  the  new  phenomena  of  adolescence,  read 
these  advertisements,  find  that  they  have  most  of 
the  symptoms  described — which  are  normal — become 
alarmed  about  themselves,  and  write  secretly  to  the 
philanthropist  who  is  so  desirous  of  aiding  suffering 
humanity.  The  "Doctor"  finds  that  they  are  in  a 
dangerous  condition  but  can  be  cured  by  his  medicine, 
which  he  accordingly  sends  them,  extorting  money  for 
it  and  his  advice  until  he  can  get  no  more. 

Mr.  Lancaster's  investigations  show  that  this  evil  is 
widespread,  and  put  the  question  of  its  existence 
beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt. 

Now,  it  is  easy  for  each  father  and  mother  to  say, 

"Well,  those  are  dreadful  facts,  and  I   have  no  doubt 

that  they  are  true,  but  I  am  sure   that  my 

,  .,  1       Ml  1  1  •  "      Necessity  of 

child  will   never  have  such  experiences.       inBtruction. 

How  can  you   be   sure   if  you   have  never 

mentioned  such  subjects  to  your  child?     The  very  boy 

or  girl   who  blushes  so  painfully  if  you  but  skirt  the 


64 


THE    CHILD 


subject,  may  but  be  imitating  your  own  attitude  toward 
him,  and  may  under  other  conditions  intjuire  into  it  in 
anything  but  a  shame-faced  way. 

Furthermore,  we  must  remember  that  most  of  these 
children  fall  into  the  danger  innocently,  and  that  the 
very  secrecy  with  which  we  surround  the  matter  makes 
it  impossible  for  us  to  know  of  the  danger  until  it  has 
actually  come  upon  them. 

The  only  safe  way,  and  the  only  justifiable  way,  is 
to  have  openness  between  parents  and  children. 
Modesty  becomes  prudish ncss  and  is  carried  to  an 
inexcusable  extreme  when  it  leaves  boys  and  girls  to 
grow  up  ignorant  of  one  of  the  most  important  facts  of 
life,  and  one  which  has  such  tremendous  bearings, 
whether  we  will  or  no,  upon  each  individual. 

The  question  then  arises  what  information  we  shall 
give,  and  when,  and  how.  We  can  not  la}'  down  many 
general  rules,  for  the  success  with  which  the  informa- 
tion is  given  depends  upon  knowing  the  particular 
child  concerned  and  seizing  the  right  opportunity. 
There  are,  however,  some  practical  suggestions  which 
may  be  given. 

From  the  standpoint  of  morality  as  well  as  from  that 

of  health,  it  is  important  to  keep  the  sexual  organs  in 

good    condition.       Any    unhealthy    organ 

Sex  hygiene.    "^  .  ,"'  .     .       f  ^     , 

causes    pam,    or    at     least    irritation,    and 

directs  attention  to  that  part  of  the  body.  Therefore, 
the  healthier  the  reproductive  organs,  the  less  will  they 
obtrude  themselves  unnecessarily  upon  the  mind,  and 
this  we  all  know  to  be  highly  desirable.  It  goes  with- 
out saying,  therefore,  that  if  there  is  any  persistent  pain 
or  irritation  the  advice  of  a  ph\'sician  should  be  sought. 
Short  of  disease,    tht,Te   are   certain    simple   rules  to 

• 


FEELINGS   AND    IDEAS   OF    SEX 


65 


follow.  Most  important  and  most  ncglccti;cl,  is  the 
observance  of  perfect  cleanliness.  There  should  be  a 
thorough  cleansing  of  these  organs,  if  not  of  the  entire 
body,  at  least  once  a  day,  and  Marro  urges  that  it  be 
still  more  frequent,  for  the  sake  of  coolness  as  well  as 
cleanliness.  These  two  agencies — coolness  and  clean- 
liness— he  places  as  the  two  great  preventives  of  irrita- 
tion and  of  consequent  sexual  thoughts.  As  soon  as 
children  are  able  to  bathe  themselves,  the  especial  im- 
portance of  this  part  of  the  bath  should  be  impressed 
upon  them. 

Stimulating  foods,  such  as  highly  seasoned  and  rich 
deserts,  and  tea  and  coffee,  should  be  avoided. 

On  the  mental  side,  the  thoughts  should  be  directed 
away  from  sexual  subjects  except  as  one  of  the  matter- 
of-course  things  in  life,  and  this  leads  again  to  the 
importance  of  instructing  children  upon  the  matter. 
Many  parents  say  that  children  should  not  think  about 
such  things  and  therefore  should  not  be  told  about 
them.  They  should  rather  say  that  children  should 
not  think  morbidly  about  such  things,  and  so  should 
be  told  about  them.  Children  are  not  naturally  evil- 
minded,  but  they  are  as  curious  as  all  the  rest  of  us, 
and  peer  intently  at  the  things  that  are  left  in  semi- 
darkness,  and  conjure  up  all  sorts  of  ideas  to  explain 
them.  If  now  these  facts  are  brought  to  the  light 
of  day,  and  are  shown  to  be  very  general  facts  after 
all,  and  if  the  sense  of  secrecy  and  shame  is  replaced 
by  a  knowledge  of  the  importance  of  the  facts,  most 
children  will  have  little  temptation  to  think  of  them  in 
anything  but  a  healthy  way,  and  will  have  the  best 
safeguard  against  indecent  speeches  and  acts  from  any 
source. 


56  THE   CHILD 

The  facts  told  must  vary  with  Ihv  child's  disposition. 
It  is  always  necessary,  however,  that  the  parent  should 
What  infor-  '^'^^'^'  '^^  accurate  knowledge,  and  should 
mationto  feel  that  the  subject  is  essentially  a  noble 
^  ^^'  one.      The    parent    must  feel    that  in  giving 

the  child  such  instruction,  he  is  fulfilling  one  of  his 
highest  duties  to  society. 

Usually  the  child  will  himself  give  some  natural 
opportunity  by  asking  questions,  and  the  amount  of 
information  can  be  determined  to  a  large  extent  by  the 
questions  themselves.  At  first  a  little  child  is  generally 
satisfied  by  the  amount  of  explanation  that  comes  in 
showing  how  a  flower  forms  its  seeds,  from  which  other 
flowers  grow;  but  if  his  questions  go  into  more  details, 
they  can  certainly  be  answered,  if  we  have  but  the 
wisdom,  so  as  to  have  only  good  results.  There  are 
families — and  the  number  is  constantly  increasing — in 
which  the  most  beautiful  relations  exist  between  par- 
ents and  offspring  as  the  result  of  the  mother's  confi- 
dences to  her  children. 

As  adolescence  approaches,  this  general  knowledge 
needs  to  be  supplemented  by  practical  instruction  as  to 
what  changes  the  boy  or  girl  must  expect.  Much  men- 
tal distress  and  irritability  will  thus  be  prevented,  and  a 
natural  growth  into  manhood  and  womanhood  secured. 

Finally  the  young  man  and  the  young  woman  may  be 
taught  with  a  new  emphasis  the  vast  importance  and 
the  sacredness  of  the  relations  of  man  to  woman,  and 
enlisted  upon  the  side  of  a  perfect  purity  of  thought  and 
action.  The  final  justification  of  instruction  in  sexual 
knowledge  is  that  it  shall  secure  a  higher  ideal  of  the 
relation  of  husband  to  wife  and  of  both  to  their  chil- 
dren.    The  "social  evil"  and  the  great  defects  in  our 


FEELINGS   AND    IDEAS   OF    SEX  67 

family  life  of  to-day  arc  directly  traceable  in  part  to 
ignorance  of  the  laws  of  sexual  health  and  morality.  It 
is  our  duty,  therefore,  as  good  citizens  as  well  as  good 
parents,  to  train  children  to  right  ideas  of  their  sexual 
selves. 

REFERENCES 

SEX    PROBLEM    AND    ADOLESCENCP: 

Barnes,  E.  A.     Feelings  and  Ideas  of  Sex  in  Children.      Fed. 

SejH.,  1S92,  199-203. 
Bentley,   Ella  H.      Sex  DilTerences  Disclosed    by  Child-Study. 

A^.   W.  Mo.,  1S97,  257-261. 
Burnham,  W.  H.     Adolescence.     Pcd.   Se>n.,  1891,  176-195. 
Christopher,  W.  S.     Three  Crises  in  Child  Life.     C.  S.  M.,  Dec, 

1897,  324-335- 
Ellis,  Havelock.     Studies  in  the  Psychology  of  Sex.    Phil.    F.  A. 

Davis,  $2,00. 
Man  and  Woman.    N.  Y.    Scribner,  $1.25.    (Discusses  sexual 

abuses.) 
Sexual  Inversion.     Phil.     F.  A.  Davis,  .$2.00. 
Geddes,  P.,  and  Thomson,  J.  A.  Evolution  of  Sex.    L.  W.Scott, 

$1.50.     (Scientific    statement.       Too  difficult    for  general 

reading.) 
Groos,  Karl.    The  Play  of  Man.  252-2S0.     N.  Y.   Appleton,  §1.50. 
Krohn,  Wm.     Menstrual  Disorders  in  School  Girls.     C.   S.  M., 

Vol.  Ill,  270. 
Lancaster,   E.   G.      Psychology  and  Pedagogy  of   Adolescence. 

Ped.  Sem.,  1897,  Vol.  V,  61-128. 
Morro,  A.     Puberal  Hygiene  in  Relation  to  Pedagogy  and  Sociol- 
ogy.    Am.  Jour,  of  Soc.,  1900,  224-237.     (Practical  details 

of  hygiene.) 
La  Puberta.     (Best  on  subject. ) 
Scott,  Colin.      Psychology  of  Puberty  and  Adolescence.      Proc. 

N.  E.A.,  1897,  843- 
Sex  and  Art.     Am.  four,  of  Psy.,  Vol.  VII. 
Tolstoi,   Lyoflf    N.      Childhood,    Boyhood    and     Youth.      N.  Y. 

Crowell,  $1.50     (Memories  of  adolescence.) 
Voisin,    J.      Psychoses  of   Puberty.      A'.    Y.  Med.  four.,    1900, 

634-636. 


68  THE   CHILD 

ARTICLES    ON    WHAT    SKX    INSTRUCTION   SHOULD    BE    GIVEN 
TO    CHILDREN    AND    METHODS    OF    PRESENTING    IT 

Allen,  Mary  Wood.    Marvels  of  Our  Bodily  D^vclling.    275  pp. 
81.00. 
What  a  Young  Girl  Ought  to  Know.     60  pp.     $1.00. 
Child  Co7ifidcnce  Rewarded.     19  pp.     loc. 
Almost  a  Man.     39  pp.   .25c. 
Almost  a  IVo/nan.     40  pp.     25c. 

Teaching  Truth.       24  pp.    25c.      (All  published  by  Wood- 
Allen  Pub.  Co.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.     Good.) 
Lyttleton,  E.      Trai7titig  of  the    Young  in  Laws  of  Sex.     N.  Y. 
Longmans,  §1.00.     (Excellent.) 
Instruction  of  the  Young  in  Sexual   Knowledge.     Int.  Jour, 
of  Ethics,  1899,  452-66. 
Morley,  Margaret  W.    Life  and  Love.    Chicago.     McClurg,  §1.25. 

Song  of  Life.     Chicago.     McClurg,  S1.25. 
Salter,  W.  M.     Children's  Questions:  How  Shall   We  Answer 

7  hem? 
Stall,  Sylvanus.     What    a   Youfig  Boy  Ought   to  Kno7u.     Ann 

Arbor.     Wood-Allen,_  $  i.  00. 
Warren.     Almost  Fourteejt.     N.Y.    Dodd,  Mead,  $1.00. 
Wagner,  Chas.      Youth.     N.Y.     Dodd,  Mead,  §1.25. 
Warner,  C.  D.     Being  a  Boy.    Boston.    Houghton,  Mifflin,  $0.60. 


CHAPTER  V 

Sensation  and  Perception 

Tcacfiers   and   students    who    are    doing    systematic 
work  in  Child-Study  should  observe  the  following: 

1.  Sight.      Keep  a  record  of  these  points        observa- 
in  the  baby's  seeing:  tions. 

(i)  When  was  the  blank  stare  replaced  by  real 
seeing  of  an  object,  i.e.,  by  convergence  of 
the  eyes  upon  the  object? 

(2)  When  did  his  eyes  first  follow  a  moving  object? 

W'as   the   object  bright    or   large?      Did    he 
move  head  as  well  as  eyes? 

(3)  When  did  he  first    look   for  an  object  or  try  to 

see  where  a  sound  came  from? 

(4)  When   did   he  first   look  for  something  that  he 

had  dropped? 

(5)  When  did  he  first  show  a  liking  for  some  color? 

W'hat  was   the   color?     W'as   it   in   a    bright 
light? 

(6)  When  did  he  first  wink  at  the  approach  of  some 

object  threatening  his  eyes? 

2.  Grasping.     When  did  these  acts  first  occur? 

(i)  Closing  of  fingers  over  object  put  into  the 
palm. 

(2)  Opposition  of  thumb  and  fingers  in  grasping. 

(3)  Putting  hand  in  mouth. 

(4)  When  did  he  first  grasp  for  some  object  he  saw? 
Notice  whether  he  reached  for  objects  far  beyond 

his   grasp,   /.  c,    whether    the    hand    closed    to    grasp 

69 


JO 


THE    CHILD 


thcni.  Babies  often  stretch  out  their  arms  for  things 
that  they  want — such  as  the  moon — but  Baldwin 
claims  that  in  such  cases  there  is  no  reaching  and 
grasping  as  there  is  when  they  expect  to  seize  a  tangi- 
ble object.  He  also  claims  that  a  baby  does  not  grasp 
at  objects  far  beyond  his  reach,  and  very  soon  learns 
to  correct  his  first  slight  inaccuracies  in  judging 
distances. 

Teachers  who  wish  statistics  as  to  the  ideas  that 
children  have  about  objects,  should  get  G.  Stanley 
Hall's  pamphlet,  Coiitcnts  of  Childrois  Minds  on  Enter- 
ing School  {¥..  L.  Kellogg  &  Co.,  price  25  cents)  and 
follow  the  plan  outlined  there.  They  may  find  another 
list  of  words  more  useful,  but  the  general  plan  will  be 
valuable  in  any  case. 

In  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  discussed  the 
physical  nature  of  the  child,  and  have  hinted  at  some 
Introduc-  of  the  relations  between  it  and  education, 
tion.  Wl'  shall  now  take   up  his  psychical  nature 

and  endeavor  to  trace  the  growth  from  the  rudiments 
in  sensation  and  perception  to  the  more  complex 
manifestations  in  the  adolescent's  reasoning.  Each 
mental  process,  such  as  memory  and  imagination,  will 
be  similarly  treated,  so  that  when  the  account  is  finished 
we  shall  have  an  accurate  picture  of  the  mental  growth 
of  children. 

In  this  part  of  our  subject,  far  more  than  in  the 
description  of  his  physical  nature  or  of  his  expressions 
of  thought,  observations  are  lacking  entirely,  or  few 
in  number,  or  defective;  but  nevertheless,  individual 
observation  may  still  be  supplemented  to  a  consider- 
able degree. 


SENSATION   AND   PERCEPTION  J\ 

There  has  been  some  discussion  among  psychologists 
as  to  when  the  first  pleasures  and  pains  can  be  felt. 
In  the  older  theories,  which  held  more  or 
less  explicitly  to  the  idea  that  even  the  ge^^^SiiB. 
newborn  child  had  a  fully  developed 
mind,  the  question  of  whether  the  soul  entered  the 
body  before  or  at  birth,  was  an  interesting  one;  but 
for  the  later  psychology  this  has  been  changed  to  the 
question  of  when  the  new  life  is  sufficiently  devel- 
oped to  have  consciousness. 

Compayre  believes  that  for  at  least  two  months 
before  birth  there  is  a  vague  consciousness  of  pressures 
and  jars,  and  perhaps  of  other  vague  comforts  and 
discomforts.  There  can  be  no  sensations  of  taste, 
smell,  sight,  or  sound,  as  embryonic  conditions  are 
such  as  to  preclude  the  possibility. 

Preyer  believes  that  birth  itself  is  a  discomfort  to 
the  child,  as  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  in  two  cases 
under  his  observation  the  child  began  to  cry  when 
only  partly  born,  the  face  at  the  same  time  expressing 
pain;  but  when  a  finger  or  a  pencil  was  put  into  the 
child's  mouth,  it  ceased  crying  and  the  look  of  pain 
was  replaced  by  one  of  pleasure. 

While  there  is  probably  a  vague  mass  of  feeling 
before  birth,  and  certainly  directly  after,  there  is  much 
less  sensitiveness  than  there  is  a  little  later.  This  is 
because  the  nerve-endings  in  the  skin  are  not  fully 
developed  and  the  connections  between  various  parts 
of  the  brain  not  yet  established.  The  newborn  child 
responds  more  feebly  to  all  kinds  of  stimuli  than  does 
the  child  a  month  old. 

We  may  summarize  i\\c  condition  in  Miss  Shinn's 
words:  "She  took  in  with  a  vague  comfort  the  gentle 


~I2  THE   CHILD 

light  that  fell  on  her  eyes,  seeing  without  any  sort  of 
attention  or  comprehension  the  moving  blurs  of  dark- 
ness that  varied  it.  She  felt  motions  and  changes; 
she  felt  the  action  of  her  own  muscles,  and  after  the 
first  three  or  four  days  disagreeable  shocks  of  sound 
now  and  then  broke  through  the  silence  or  perhaps 
through  an  unnoticed  jumble  of  faint  noises.  She  felt 
touches  on  her  body  from  time  to  time,  but  without  the 
least  sense  of  the  place  of  the  touch;  and  steady,  slight 
sensations  of  touch  from  her  clothes,  from  arms  that 
held  her,  from  cushions  on  which  she  lay,  poured  in 
on  her. 

"From  time  to  time  sensations  of  hunger  and  thirst, 
and  once  or  twice  of  pain,  made  themselves  felt 
through  all  the  others,  and  mounted  till  they  became 
distressing;  from  time  to  time  a  feeling  of  heightened 
comfort  flowed  over  her  as  hunger  or  thirst  were  satis- 
fied; or  reli-ase  from  clothes  and  the  effect  of  the  bath 
and  rubbing  on  her  circulation  increased  the  net  sense 
of  well-being.  .  .  .  For  the  rest  she  lay  empty-minded, 
neither  consciously  comfortable  nor  uncomfortable, 
yet  on  the  whole  pervaded  with  a  dull  sense  of  well- 
being.  Of  the  people  about  her,  of  her  mother's 
face,  of  her  own  existence,  of  desire  or  fear,  she 
knew  nothing.  Yet  this  dim  dream  was  flecked  all 
through  with  the  beginnings  of  later  comparison  and 
choice." 

To  trace  the  steps  of  the  marvelous  transformation 
from  this  animal-like  little  being  to  the  wide-awake, 
fascinating  little  person  of  a  year  later  is  especially  to 
trace  the  development  of  sensation  and  perception. 
Memory,  imagination,  and  thought  also  begin  here,  but 
do  not  develop  so  rapidly  as  does  perception. 


SENSATION   AND   PERCEPTION 


73 


It  is  so  difficult  to  test  a  baby's  sense  of  smell  apart 

from  taste  that  practically  no  observation  of  this  sense 

has   been   made.     Preyer  cites   some  cases 

that  seem  to  indicate  some  sensibility  even      Sensations 

•'  of  smell, 

at  the  first,  but  concludes  that  smell  tlevel- 

ops  much  less  rapidly  than  any  other  sense.  This  is 
because  it  has  very  little  exercise,  most  of  the  sur- 
roundini^s  of  a  well-kept  child  beinj^'  odorless, 

A  number  of  observations  have  been   made  on   new- 
born   children    who    have    not   yet   been    fed,    to    see 
whether  there  are  different  instinctive  reac- 
tions   to    sour,    bitter    and    sweet    tastes.      Sensations 

'  _  _  of  taste. 

Dilute  solutions  of  such  bitters  as  quinine 

and  such  sours  as  acetic  acid  were  used,  with  varying 
results.  While  some  babies  made  faces  and  rejected 
the  substance,  others  sucked  placidly  at  it.  In  some 
of  the  latter  cases,  however,  when  the  solution  was 
made  stronger  it  was  rejected.  In  all  cases  sweet 
substances  were  sucked.* 

Preyer  concludes  that  while  there  are  considerable 
individual  differences  in  sensibility,  there  is  from  the 
start  a  dislike  for  sours  and  bitters  and  a  liking  for 
sweets.  His  own  son  showed  a  considerable  degree  of 
discrimination  about  his  milk,  objecting  vigorously  if 
it  had  not  quite  the  usual  amount  of  sugar  in  it.  Most 
mothers  find  that  if  the  baby's  milk  is  changed  there 
is  trouble. 

Any  new  food  given  to  a  baby  or  small  child  at  first 
causes  contortions  and  grimaces  which  we  are  likely  to 
interpret  as  due  to  great  disgust;  but  they  occur  even 
with  sweet    foods  which   the   child   eagerly  sucks   at, 

*The  various  substances  were  all  of  the  same  warmth,  to 
exclude  the  factor  of  temperature. 


THE   CHILD 


74 

and  seem  to  be  expressions  of  astonishment  rather 
than  dislike.  In  many  cases  an  incipient  disgust  can 
be  overcome  by  manifestations  of  enjoyment  from  the 
child's  elders,  and  thus  likings  for  many  hygienic  foods 
can  be  formed  before  the  child  has  a  chance  to  acquire 
dislikes,  or  likings  for  unhygienic  foods. 

This  ought  to  be  done  when  a  child  is  first  learning 
to  eat  solid  foods,  for  by  the  time  he  is  four  or  five 
years  old  he  has  such  decided  likes  and  dislikes  that 
he  can  hardly  be  forced  to  eat  food  that  he  dislikes 
without  nausea.  In  such  a  case,  while  a  child  should 
not  be  forced  to  eat  a  food  for  which  he  has  a  strong 
dislike,  we  need  not  go  to  the  other  extreme  and  give 
him  an  unhygienic  diet  even  if  he  calls  for  it.  To 
allow  a  child  to  make  a  meal  off  meat,  cheese  and  pie, 
when  he  refuses  potato,  bread,  peas,  and  milk,  is  the 
worst  possible  thing  for  him.  There  are  other  vege- 
tables, grains  and  fruits  that  he  will  eat,  and  these 
should  be  given  him. 

Then,  too,  it  not  uncommonly  happens  that  a  child 
takes  a  dislike  to  a  food  from  its  appearance,  without 
ever  tasting  it,  and  all  that  is  necessary  is  to  exercise 
a  little  diplomacy  in  getting  the  first  spoonful  into  his 
mouth.  Of  course  sometimes  he  will  not  like  it,  but 
even  then  the  alternative  is  not  an  unhygienic  food, 
but  another  food  containing  the  same  chemical 
ingredients. 

Practically  it  is  a  difficult  thing  to  steer  one's  way 
between  the  over-indulgence  of  a  capricious  appetite, 
and  a  wise  yielding  to  insurmountable  dislikes,  but  it 
may  be  confidently  asserted  that  the  average  American 
mother  tends  to  over-indulgence  rather  than  to  the 
following  of   too   hygienic    laws.     Little   children   are 


SENSATION   AND    PERCEPTION 


75 


given  too  stinuilatiiifj  and  too  monotonous  a  diet  as  a 
rule — too  much  meat  and  pastry  and  too  few  fruits  and 
vegetables.  This  is  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  children 
usually  sit  at  the  same  table  as  their  elders  and  clamor 
for  the  same  food.  The  parents,  unwilling  to  adopt  a 
simpler  diet,  or  unable  to  train  the  children  to  eat  it 
contentedly,  give  them  the  rich  food,  which  causes 
nervousness  and  dyspepsia.  Either  of  the  two  possi- 
bilities is,  however,  within  the  reach  of  parents  who 
have  the  strength  of  character  to  adopt  it. 

We  should  also  note  here  the  fact  mentioned  by  Miss 
Shinn  that  thirst  is  present  from  birth  and  is  not  satis- 
fied entirely  by  the  baby's  liquid  diet.  A  baby  will 
fret  sometimes,  not  for  milk,  but  for  water,  and  a 
teaspoonful  will  relieve  him  more  than  an  extra  meal. 
Children  also  crave  water  more  than  adults  do. 

The    newborn    child  is  deaf  and    remains  so    for  a 

period  varying  from  half  an  hour  to  several  days  or 

even  weeks.    If  loud  sounds  do  not  call  out         _ 

Hearing, 
a  response  by  the   fourth  week,  however, 

there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  deafness  will  be  perma- 
nent. Usually  decided  starts  or  tremblings  are  caused 
by  a  loud  sound  on  the  second  or  third  day. 

The  causes  of  this  first  deafness  are  two:  (i)  The 
middle  ear  is  filled  with  the  amniotic  fluid  instead  of 
with  air  as  in  the  adult;  (2)  The  walls  of  the  auditory 
canal  either  actually  adhere  or  are  close  together,  thus 
preventing  or  impeding  the  passage  of  air  waves  to  the 
drum  of  the  ear.  Afterbirth,  the  middle  ear  is  cleared 
by  the  fluid  running  out  through  the  Eustachian  tube 
to  the  throat,  and  air  entering  by  the  same  channel,  as 
the  child  swallows;  the  walls  of  the  auditory  canal 
separate,  and  hearing  becomes  more  distinct. 


76 


THE   CHILD 


The  advnntai^e  of  ha\iiij^  the  car  thus  cushioned  at 
first  is  evident  when  we  consider  that  the  tympanic 
membrane  is  more  easily  ruptured  in  children  than  in 
adults,  and  if  it  were  at  first  exposed  to  sounds  as  it  is 
later,  it  would  oftcMi  be  broken  by  the  impact  of  air 
waves  against  it.  It  is  quite  possible  that  children  are 
more  sensitive  to  sounds  than  adults  because  this  mem- 
brane is  more  delicate. 

The  sensitiveness  to  sounds  when  once  Iicaring  has 
been  established  varies  considerably.  Compayre 
records  that  about  the  fourth  day  such  slight  sounds 
as  a  sneeze  or  a  whistle  caused  violent  responses.  We 
should  notice,  however,  that  a  child's  starts  or  tremors 
when  a  door  slams  or  wIumi  a  loud  voice  speaks  are 
often  due  to  the  jar  instead  of  to  the  noise.  This  can 
easily  be  tested  by  making  the  sounds  where  none  of 
the  jar  from  them  can  reach  the  baby.  Mrs.  Hall 
observes  this  great  sensitiveness  to  jars  on  the  first  day. 

On  the  seventh  day  a  loud  call  would  not  awaken 
Prayer's  son,  but  on  the  third  day  Miss  Shinn's  niece 
started  when  some  paper  was  torn  at  a  distance  of 
eight  feet.  By  the  fifth  week,  Preyer's  boy  was  so 
sensitive  that  during  the  day  he  would  not  sleep  if  any- 
one was  talking  or  walking  in  the  room.  On  the  other 
hand,  many  babies  sleep  tranquilly  through  prolonged 
conversations.     Habit  has  much  to  do  with  this. 

In  the  eighth  week  this  same  boy  heard  the  piano, 
and  was  much  pleased  with  the  loud  tones,  but  paid  no 
attention  to  the  soft  ones.  The  various  observations 
on  sensibility  to  musical  tones  we  shall  consider  later 
in  connection  with  music. 

During  teething,  the  same  boy's  sensibility  to  sounds 
was  increased,  and  after  the  first  year  most  new  sounds 


SENSATION    AND    PERCEPTION 


n 


even  when  very  loud,  like  thunclcr,  caused  pleasure 
instead  of  fear. 

Mrs.  Hall  noticed  that  her  child  distinjruished  differ- 
ent kinds  of  sounds  before  any  one  sound  was  recog- 
nized. When  we  consider  the  adult's  inability  to 
recognize  absolute  pitch,  this  is  just  what  we  should 
expect.  Our  knowledge  and  recognition  of  sounds  is 
almost  entirely  a  matter  of  their  relations  to  each 
other. 

Under  the  head   of  dermal  senses  are   included  the 

various  kinds  of  sensations  which  arise  from  the  skin. 

Here,  as  in  the  case  of  smell,  we  have  no 

,  .  ,  111       The  dermal 

exact  observations  as  to  how  much  a  l^aby  senses. 

discriminates  differences  of  heat  and  cold,   i-  Tempera- 
It  seems  probable   that  after  the  first  bath, 
he  feels  warmth  and  cold,  and  after  the   first  week  he 
shows  decided  pleasure  in  a  warm  bath  and  dislike  of 
one  i><°  C.  lower. 

Taylor  warns  us  that  the  child  of  two  or  three  years 
has  a  membrane  so  much  more  sensitive  than  an 
adult's  that  it  may  be  blistered  by  food  which  to  an 
adult  seems  only  warm.  He  evidences  the  protests 
of  children  against  food  and  water  which  to  us  seem 
only  agreeably  heated. 

Under  the  head  of  passive  touch  we  consider  only 
those  pressure  sensations  in  which  the  skin  alone  is 
involved.    When  the  muscles  also  are  used, 

•  1         •  p  '  •  2     FcLSSiV6 

as  in  explormg  a  surface  or  m  grasping,  we      touch 
have  active  touch.     As  with  all   the  other 
sense   organs,    the  skin  of  the  newborn  babe    is    less 
sensitive    than    it    is  a  few   weeks  later,    because    the 
nerve    terminations    are    still    imperfectly   developed. 
When    respiration  begins,  the    reflexes  called  out  by 


yg  THE   CHILD 

slapping  or  pinching  are  stronger  than  before,  and  after 
two  or  three  weeks  there  is  a  markedly  stronger  re- 
sponse to  a  slight  stimulus  than  at  first. 

Preyer  found  that  the  lips  and  tongue  of  a  newborn 
child  are  the  most  sensitive  parts  of  the  body.  Tick- 
ling the  tip  of  the  tongue  before  the  child  had  ever 
been  fed  caused  sucking  and  swallowing  movements, 
while  tickling  the  root  caused  movements  of  ejection. 

Touching  the  palm  of  a  two  hours'  old  child  causes 
the  fingers  to  close  about  the  object,  and  the  grasp  is  so 
strong  that  the  babe  may  hang  suspended  by  his  hands 
for  half  a  minute — a  feat  many  adults  can  not  dupli- 
cate. Touching  the  soles  also  causes  reflex  move- 
ments, but  they  are  slower  than  a  week  or  so  later. 

In  the  discussion  of  this  subject,  we  anticipate  what 

should   come   in   the   chapter  on   instincts,  but  it  is  so 

essential  to  the  understanding  of  perception 

3.  Active  ^Yi^i  the  separation  is  unavoidable.  We 
touch.  1 

shall  take  up  here  the  series  of  movements 

which  most  assist  the  child   in  getting  a  knowledge  of 

objects  as  distinct  from  each  other  and  as  holding  space 

relations  to  each  other. 

We  have  already  seen  that  Preyer  found  that  the  lips 

and  tongue  are  most  sensitive  in  passive  touch,  and  we 

all     know    that    everything     goes    into    a 

^^'       baby's    mouth,    there    to   be    sucked    and 

licked      Preyer  attributes  this  to  the  baby's  belief  that 

all  the  world  is  milk,  and  that  to  get  milk  at  any  time 

all   that   is  necessary  is   to   put  the  first   handy  object 

into   his   mouth   and   suck    it    diligently.      Miss    Shinn 

takes  issue  with  Preyer  here  and  maintains  that  things' 

go  into   the  mouth   on   account  of  the   pleasure  that 

comes  from  contact  with  the  sensitive  lips  and  tongue, 


SENSATION    AND    PERCEPTION 


79 


just  as  an  adult  gets  pleasure  from  touching  smooth, 
warm  surfaces  or  from  exploring  the  outlines  of  an 
object  with  the  hand.  Both  theories  are  based  on 
observations  of  only  a  few  children,  but  Miss  Shinn's 
seems  more  true  than  Herr  Preyer's.  We  must,  of 
course,  except  from  consideration  the  hungry  child. 
He  wants  only  food.  But  when  he  is  fed  and  warm 
and  happy,  he  will  still  mouth  eagerly  at  anything 
between  his  lips,  and  will  continue  to  do  so  even  though 
it  is  hard  and  tasteless.  He  shows  no  disappointment 
when  no  milk  comes  from  it,  but  on  the  contrary  goes 
over  it  again  and  again  with  lips  and  tongue.  And  his 
repeated  experiences  that  milk  flows  only  from  the 
bottle  do  not  deter  him.  On  the  contrary,  long  after  a 
baby  has  shown  in  other  ways  that  he  associates  de- 
finite experiences  with  definite  objects,  he  continues 
to  put  things  into  his  mouth.  He  would  not  do  this  if 
all  that  he  wanted  from  them  were  food. 

Miss  Shinn  also  observed  in  her  niece  a  stage  when, 
to  some  extent,  she  used  the  mouth  for  grasping 
instead  of  the  hand,  putting  her  head  down,  like  a 
dog,  to  get  at  the  object,  and  protruding  her  lips.  For 
some  time,  in  getting  an  object  into  her  mouth  from 
her  hand,  she  pushed  her  head  down  toward  her  hand 
more  than  she  raised  her  hand  to  her  mouth.  For 
some  time  she  would  mouth  over  the  face  and  dress  of 
the  person  holding  her,  in  preference  to  using  her 
hands. 

Even  children  four  or  five  years  old  put  things  into 
their  mouths  to  suck,  although  they  know  that  they  are 
not  eatable,  and  many  adults  do  the  same.  The  habit 
of  chewing  gum,  where  there  is  no  taste  after  the  first 
few  minutes,  illustrates  this. 
e 


8o  THE    CHILD 

In  all  this,  there  seem  to  be  traces  of  the  surviwil  of 
an  ancestral  stage  when  man  like  other  animals,  did  not 
use  his  hands  for  grasping,  but  only  his  mouth.  The 
stage  is,  of  course,  rudimentary,  and  is  not  distinctly 
marked  off  from  that  of  hand  grasping,  but  it  does 
seem  to  be  present. 

For  lack  of  a  better  name,  we  call  the  first  move- 
ments of  a  child's  hands  and  arms  random.  Many  of 
them  are  not  coordinated  and  they  seem  to 
<,^o°ar^i»,o.  seTve  uo  useful  end  The  child  himself  has 
no  control  over  them.  They  are  due  to 
overflows  of  nervous  energy,  which  drain  off  in  this 
way. 

In  the  first  random  movements  the  arms  go  help- 
lessly here  and  there,  striking  against  the  surrounding 
objects,  against  the  baby's  own  body,  his  face  and  his 
eyes,  and  now  and  then  getting  into  his  mouth,  where 
they  are  sucketl.  They  are  especially  likely  to  get  to 
his  mouth,  because  in  the  prenatal  posture,  the  hands 
are  close  to  the  mouth,  and  the  position  is  naturally 
assumed  by  a  baby  for  some  time  after  birth.  The 
great  enjoyment  obtained  from  the  thumb  or  fist, 
deepens  the  connections  thus  accidentally  formed 
betwet'U  the  hand  movement  and  the  sucking  move- 
ments, so  that  he  soon  learns  to  put  his  hand  to  his 
mouth  when  he  pleases.  By  the  twelfth  week  Mrs. 
Hall's  baby  was  able  to  put  things  into  his  mouth  or 
near  enough  to  it  so  that  the  lips  could  feel  them  and 
draw  them  in.  K\'en  in  the  fort\'-third  week,  Preyer's 
boy  would  miss  his  mouth  sometimes  when  it  was  open 
and  waiting  tor  food.  In  first  learning  these  move- 
ments, the  left  arm  often  moves  symmetrically  with 
the  right. 


SENSATION    AND    PERCEPTION  ^i 

Grasping  develops  slowly  through  a  number  of 
stages  as  follows: 

1.  Reflex  clasping.  Two  hours  after  hirth  the  fingers 
will  close  over  an  ol)ject  put  into  them,  and  within  a 
few  days  a  loud  sound  or  bright  light  may 

cause  a  convulsi\-e  throwing  up  of  both  clasping 
arms.  Mrs.  Hall  states  that  at  first  her 
baby  seemed  unconscious  of  any  object  in  his  hand, 
but  that  on  the  fifty-seventh  day  the  fingers  closed 
over  a  small  pencil-case.  It  seems  as  if  her  observa- 
tion must  be  defective  here,  as  all  other  observers 
agree  that  the  reflex  grasping  occurs  shortly  after 
birth. 

2.  Holding  with  the  thumb  opposed   to   the  fingers 
when  an  object  chances  to  be  in  the  way  of  the  moving 
hand.       Mrs.    Hall    notes    that    after    the 
seventieth   day   the   thumb    lay  outside  the     g^g^g  ^°* 
fingers   when   the   hand   was   closed,'  while 

before  it  had  been  inside.  During  the  first  three 
months,  the  thumb  becomes  opposed  to  the  fingers  as  in 
an  adult,  so  that  any  objects  which  come  into  contact 
with  the  hand  are  more  firmly  held.  This  fact,  com- 
bined with  the  ability  already  gained  to  put  the  hands 
to  the  mouth,  results  in  many  objects  being  taken 
to  the  mouth,  where  the  variety  and  pleasure  of  the 
new  feelings  prompt  him  to  repeat  the  act. 

Thus  the  thumb  and  fingers  have  learned  to  work 
together,  though  awkwardly,  and  thus  connections 
have  been  established  between  arm  movements  and 
the  pleasures  of  sucking  the  hand  or  the  objects  held 
in  the  hand.  But  as  }'et  the  eye  does  not  direct  the 
hand,  and  therefore  the  child  does  not  reach  for 
objects  that  he  sees,  and  he  does  not  look  at  objects  held 


g2  THE   CHILD 

by  his  hands.  These  two  points  and  their  \ast  impc^r- 
tance  to  the  child  we  shall  consider  short!}-,  but  lirst 
we  must  trace  the  development  of  si<;ht. 

Five  minutes  after  birth,  when   taken   to  a  window 
in   the  twili^^ht,  Preyer's  son  showed   some  sensitive- 
ness to  the  light.     The  eyes  of  a  baby  will 

1.  Sensitive-  close  if  a  bright  light  is  brought  near 
nesBto  light,  (-{^^.j^-,^    ^^^^\   ^^^.  partly  closed   most  of   the 

time  at  first.  Comj:)ayrc  thinks  that  one  reason  why 
some  babies  are  so  wakeful  at  night  is  that  the  darkness 
does  not  fatigue  their  eyes  as  daylight  does. 

This  first  shrinking  soon  disappears,  however. 
Within  a  few  days  the  baby  will  turn  its  head  toward 
a  window  or  light,  and  witiiin  a  few  weeks  will  give 
various  expressions  of  pleasure  at  light.  The  strabis- 
mus or  squinting  which  is  so  marked  in  most  newborn 
babies  disappears  by  the  third  week,  and  moderately 
bright  lights  are'  enjoyed.  The  great  sensitiveness  to 
light  at  first  is  shown  also  by  the  fact  that  a  baby's 
pupils  are  more  contracted  than  an  adult's. 

The  importance  of  shielding  a  baby's  eyes  from  a 
glare  of  light  is  thus  evident.  A  little  baby  should 
not  lie  facing  a  window  or  bright  light  for  any  length 
of  time,  any  more  than  a  child  should  be  allowed  to 
face  them  when  he  reads. 

Observation  seems  to  show  that  babies  are  generally 

shortsighted  for  a  time,  and  in  addition  to  this,  their 

inability  at  first  to  move  their  eyeballs  or 

2.  Range  of     [^g^^j  ^^^jth  any  regularity  limits  their  vision 

still  more.  The  lens  also  does  not  accom- 
modate itself  to  objects  at  first,  so  that  any  object 
outside  of  the  one  focal  distance  must  be  very  indis- 
tinct.    While  a  child   is   not  born  blind,  therefore,  his 


SENSATION   AND   PERCEPTION  ^^ 

visual  world  is  limitfd  to  the  few  feet  directly  in  front 
of  him,  filled  with  indistinct  blurs.  By  the  sixth  week 
the  shortsightedness  is  less  marked  and  by  the  eighth, 
accommodation  of  the  lenses  begins,  both  greatly 
enlarging  the  child's  world. 

The  first  movements  of  the  eyelids  are  not  coordi- 
nated  either  with  each    other   or   with    the  eyeballs. 

One  eve  will  be  wide  open  when   the  other 
•    t     1  /  1  111-11  •  1  3.  Move- 

is  halt  shut,  and  both  will  sometimes  close     mentsof 

while  the  eyes  are  fixed  on  some  object,     ^y^s.   The 
.      »  ,  ,  ,       ,  .  .  eyelids. 

At  nrst  also   they  seem  to  be  less  sensitive 

than  later,  for  wetting  the  eyelids  and  even  the  cornea, 
which  is  so  sensitive  in  adults,  will  not  cause  the  eyelids 
to  close  in  some  cases  until  after  the  third  month. 
So  also  at  first  there  is  no  winking  when  an  object  threat- 
ens the  eyes.  The  first  appearance  of  winking  occurs 
sometime  between  the  forty-third  and  sixtieth  days,  by 
which  time  the  movements  of  the  eyelids  are  fairly 
well  coordinated. 

Convergence,  that  is,   harmonious  movements  of  the 
eyeballs  so  as  to  bring  the  points  of  clearest  vision  in 

both  to  focus  upon  the  same  object,  is  in  as 

^  ,  .     ,  .  ,  .        The  eyeballs, 

imperfect  a  state  at  birth  as  is  everything 

else.     Many  children   are   born   cross-eyed  and  remain 

so  for  months,  the  defect  disappearing  as  the  eyes  are 

used  and  accustomed  to  work  together. 

In   all   children  different  degrees  of  incoordination 

can  be  observed  even  from  the  very  first,  for  while  at 

some     times    the    eyes    are    evidently    not     working 

together,  at  others   they  appear  to  be.      In   the   last 

case,  however,  closer  watching  usually  shows  that  the 

movements  are  not  perfectly  coordinated.     Compayre 

traces  the  development  from   incoordinate  movements 


84 


THE    CHILD 


to  involuntary  coordinated,  and  then  to  voluntary 
coordinated;  but  while  this  shows  the  logical  order  and 
th(.'  (uxler  in  which  the  relative  importance  of  the 
movements  progresses,  all  three  are  found  from  the 
second  week  on,  if  Preyer's  observations  are  correct. 
He  notes  that  on  the  seventh  day  his  boy's  eyes  fol- 
lowed a  candle,  and  converged,  while  on  the  eleventh 
day  there  was  unmistakable  fixation  of  the  e>xs.  Mrs. 
Hall  also  notes  that  from  the  second  week  the  eyes 
began  to  rest  on  objects,  but  places  the  first  unmistak- 
able fixation  on  the  twenty-first  day.  On  the  fifty-third 
day  her  child  gazed  at  a  box  of  rattling  matches  for 
six  minutes,  and  on  the  sixty-second  at  a  purse  of 
jingling  coins  for  tw^enty-eight  minutes.  Kvcn  then 
he  would  have  continued,  though  showing  great 
fatigue. 

This  prolonged  convergence  of  the  eyes  is  one  of 
the  very  important  steps  in  seeing,  as  until  it  is  ac- 
complished there  can  be  no  definite  marking  out  of  one 
object  from  another.  Sully  notes  that  convergence  is 
well  established  by  the  sixth  week,  and  it  is  followed 
almost  at  once  in  the  eighth  week  by  the  accommoda- 
tion of  the  lenses,  which  makes  each  object  still  more 
distinct  and  definite  in  outline.  The  first  well-defined 
seeing  of  objects  probably  occurs  therefore  about  the 
second  month,  or  between  the  second  and  third 
months. 

Following  a  movement  with  the  eyes  can  not  occur 
until  convergence  is  well  established,  but  we  find 
that  Preyer  notes  the  first  following  with  the  first 
convergence,  on  the  seventh  day.  He  notes  again, 
however,  on  the  twx^nty-third  day,  that  his  son  followed 
a  movinfj  candle  with   his   eves  and  turned  his  head  to 


SENSATION   AND    PERCEPTION 


S5 


do  so.  On  the  thirtieth  day  Mrs.  Hall's  child  fol- 
lowed the  movements  of  a  brush  and  comi),  and  on  the 
thirty-eighth  day,  that  of  a  gently  swinging  ball.  This 
ability  remains  limited  for  a  long  time;  thus  we  find 
Preyer's  child  from  the  forty-third  to  the  sixt\'-fourth 
weeks  just  learning  to  look  after  an  object  that  falls, 
and  even  when  two  and  one  half  years  old  unable  to 
follow  the  flight  of  a  bird. 

After  the  baby  gets  distinct  retinal  images  of  objects 
through    convergence    and    accommodation,    and    has 

learned  to  follow  a  moving  object  with    his     ,     ,  .      - 

'^        •'  Looking  for 

eyes,  but  one  small  step  is  necessary  before     ahidden 
his  mental  growth   proceeds   by  leaps  and     °^i^^^- 
bounds;  i.c\,   he  must  learn  to  look  for  an  object  that 
is  out  of  sight.      Herein  lies  the  germ  of  memory  and 
a  clear  manifestation  of  will. 

Miss  Shinn  first  observed  this  at  the  beginning  of  the 
eighth  week,  when  the  baby  turned  from  studying  her 
aunt's  face  to  study  her  mother's  which  was  entirely 
out  of  sight.  Accommodation  began  at  the  same 
time,  and  was  succeeded  b)^  a  period  of  absorbed 
looking  at  everything  that  she  could  by  any  possibility 
twist  her  head  and  body  to  see. 

Closely  connected  with  this,  from  the  eighth  to 
twelfth  weeks,  is  the  first  recognition  of  faces. 
Naturally,  the  one  who  takes  the  most  care  of  the  baby 
is  noticed  first,  or,  if  several  persons  spend  about  the 
same  time  with  him,  the  one  who  most  satisfies  his 
instincts  and  impulses.  Before  this,  even  as  early  as 
the  third  week,  a  baby  learns  to  recognize  people  by 
touch,  but  here  we  are  speaking  of  sight  alone. 

With  this  visual  recognition,  the  baby  has  reached 
an   ad\anced   stage  of   perception,    and    we   must  now 


86  THE   CHILD 

adopt  a  different  nicthotl  of  describing  what  goes 
on  in  his  mind.  So  far  the  dexelopment  of  each  sense 
Sensation  ^^^  been  considered  separately,  as  if  when 
and  the  baby  saw,  he  did  not  also  touch  or  hear 

perception      ^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^,j^j,^  actually  the  different  senses 

cooperate  almost  from  the  beginning,  although  imper- 
fectly. Connections  are  established  with  particular 
rapidity  between  certain  sensations  and  certain  reac- 
tions. Within  two  or  three  weeks  after  birth,  for 
instance,  the  sight  or  smell  of  the  milk  will  call  out  a 
definite  response  from  the  baby 

Such  a  sensation  has  bound  up  with  it  certain  other 
possible  experiences  that  make  it  more  than  a  mere 
sight  or  sound.  The  sight  of  the  milk  now  means  also 
to  the  baby  a  certain  taste  and  satisfaction.  Later  on, 
the  sight  of  his  mother's  face  means  being  held  and 
petted;  the  sight  of  his  bath  means  splashing,  and  so 
on  through  all  his  various  experiences.  He  is  binding 
together  thus  the  numerous  different  experiences  that 
he  gets  from  each  sense  and  from  different  senses,  and 
the  result  is  that  each  sensation  comes  to  stand  for  a 
great  many  more  possible  sensations  that  he  can  get  if 
he  chooses  to  exert  himself  to  do  so. /When  a  sensation 
has  thus  accjuired  meaning,  it  has  become  a  perception. 

The  first  sensations  that  are  associated  are  probably 
those  of  the  taste  and  the  touch  of  milk.  These  very 
soon  become  associated  with  the  sight  of  the 
to^uch*°  bottle,    the    connections  being  established 

even  as  early  as  the  third  week.  A  child 
will  then  ])ush  toward  the  bottle  and  a  little  later  will 
cease  fretting  as  soon  as  preparations  for  feeding  him 
are  begun. 

It  is  probably  the  case  that  various  touch  sensations 


SENSATION    AND    PERCEPTION 


87 


arc  very  early  combiiictl  \nU)  one  whole,  as  a  baby  dis- 
tinguishes persons  by  the  way  they  handle  him  long 
before  he  knows  faces.  But  we  have  no  Touch  and 
careful  observations  on  this  point.  touch. 

Sully's  Extracts  record 'that  in  the  si.xth  week  the 
baby  for  the  first  time  turned  his  head  toward  a  sound 
to  see  what  made   it.    Preyer  did  not  see 

this  until   the  eleventh  week,  but  then   it        sightand 

'  sound, 

became  very  common  and  by  the  sixteenth 

week  was  done  so  quickly  that  it  seemed  reflex.     This 

connection   never  becomes   close.     Adults  are   rarely 

able  to  locate  sounds  very  accurately. 

We  have  already  noted  that  between  the  eighth  and 

twelfth  weeks  a  baby  first  recognizes  faces  by  sight  and 

begins  to  seek  for  objects  that  are  out  of 

sight.     He  has  now  an  immense  amount  of       ^l^^^  ^^^ 
°  .       .  sight. 

work  before  him  in  the  way  of  connecting 
the  various  appearances  of  objects  with  each  other  and 
of  tracing  similarities  between  objects,  and  he  proceeds 
to  this  work  with  infinite  zest.  If  we  will  but  consider 
a  moment,  we  can  see  how  complex  a  task  this  really 
is.  The  slightest  change  of  position  changes  greatly 
the  appearance  of  any  object.  A  table  is  not  at  all 
the  same  thing  to  the  baby  on  the  floor  that  it  is  when 
he  is  in  some  one's  arms,  and  both  are  different  from 
the  table  that  he  sits  up  to  in  his  chair.  We  grown 
people  have  learned  to  allow  for  these  differences;  but 
to  the  baby  mind  the  visual  world  must  present  a  series 
of  metamorphoses  far  more  startling  than  any  that 
the  fairy  godmother  is  ever  supposed  to  make.  It  is, 
then,  small  wonder  that  he  believes  in  fairy  tales  two  or 
three  years  later  if  the  wonder  created  in  his  little  mind 
by  these  first  miracles  leaves  any  lasting  impression. 


38  THE   CHILD 

Miss  Shinii  i^i\'cs  such  an  excellent  desciiption  of 
what  takes  place  in  establishinj,^  these  connections 
between  the  various  appearances  of  an  object  that  we 
will  take  it  as  typical:  "Later  the  same  day  (when  six 
months  old)  she  sat  in  m\'  \;i\)  walchin^^  with  an  intent 
and  puzzled  face  the  back  and  side  of  her  grand- 
mother's head,  (-iraiulnia  turned  and  chirruped  to  her 
and  the  little  one's  jaw  dropped  and  her  eyebrows 
went  u[)  in  an  expression  of  blank  surprise.  Presently 
I  began  to  swing  her  on  my  foot,  and  at  every  pause 
in  the  swinging  she  would  sit  gazing  at  the  puzzling 
head  till  grandma  turned  or  nodded  and  chirruped; 
then  she  would  turn  away  satisfied  and  want  more 
swinging.  .  .  .  At  first,  amazed  to  see  the  coil  of  silver 
hair  and  the  curve  of  cheek  turn  into  grandma's  front 
face,  the  baby  watched  for  the  repetition  of  the  mira- 
cle till  it  came  to  seem  natural,  and  the  two  aspects 
were  firmly  knit  together  in  her  mind."  Preyer  tells 
also  of  how  Axel  in  his  seventh  month  gasped  with 
astonishmcMit  when  a  fan  was  opened  and  shut  before 
him.  If  we  can  imagine  our  own  feelings  if  a  table 
should  suddenly  begin  to  disappear  and  reappear,  we 
can  faintly  understand  his  surprise. 

When  we  consider  that  this  same  jirocess  of  connect- 
ing the  various  aspects  of  objects  has  to  be  gone 
through  with  each  object,  we  have  a  vastly  increased 
respect  for  the  working  jiowers  of  the  baby's  brain! 

Recognition  of  visual  form  grows  rapidly,  and  by  the 
seventh  or  eighth  month  we  find  some  babies  identi- 
fying pictures,  or  recognizing  the  real  object  from  its 
rei)resentation,  as  with  Mrs.  Hall's  child,  who  recog- 
nizc;d  a  real  dog  from  its  likeness  to  a  toy  one  that 
stood  on  tile  mantelpiece. 


SENSATION    AND   PERCEPTION 


89 


In  all  this  the  baljy  is  jjcttin}4-  his  work!  of  thinj^s 
seen  well  sejoarated  from  each  other  and  reunited  into 
distinct  wholes,  but  this  process  is  much  facilitated 
when  he  begins  to  connect  sij^dit  and  touch. 

At  first  the  two  series  seem  to  run  side  by  side;  inde- 
pendently. The  baby's  hands  grope  and  fumble  with 
objects    and    learn    to    carry    them    to    his 

mouth,    but     his    eyes    do    not    follow    his        sight  and 

-^    ,  touch, 

hands.     The  connection   between   the   two 

is  established  mechanically  at  first.     The  eye  chances 

to  catch  sight  of  the  hand  that  is  fumbling  some  object 

and    follows    its   movements   as   it   does   those  of  any 

moving    thing.     Sometimes  the    empty   hand   catches 

the  eye  and  is  carefully  studied.     Thus  by  degrees  the 

eye  forms  the  habit  of  watching  the   hand   as  it  seizes, 

and  later  of  directing  it. 

The  time  when  active  touch  and  seeing  are  thus  first 
united  is  given  very  differently.  Sully  puts  it  as  early 
as  the  ninth  wecdv;  Mrs.  Hall,  the  fourteenth;  Preyer, 
the  seventeenth;  and  Miss  Shinn,  the  twenty-first. 
It  seems  doubtful  whether  it  could  occur  as  early  as 
the  ninth  week,  for  then  convergence  and  accommoda- 
tion ha\'e  only  just  been  established,  and  the  distinct 
seeing  of  objects  would  be  too  new  a  thing  for  the  eye 
to  control  the  hand  with  any  success.  More  observa- 
tions are  needed  on  this  point. 

When  the  connection  is  once  established,  however, 
a  baby  is  indefatigable  in  his  efforts  to  reach  and  han- 
dle everything  about  him.  Here  we  stumble  upon  the 
question  whether  a  baby  reaches  for  objects  more  than 
a  few  inches  beyond  his  grasp,  or  whether  he  has  an 
inherited  distance  sense,  an  instinct  for  distance. 
Baldwin,    in    a   series   of    experiments    on    his    child. 


90 


THE   CHILD 


found  that  she  ncvi-r  ^n-asi)cd  at  objects  more  than  a 
foot  beyond  her  reach,  and  soon  learned  to  correct 
this  error.  He  ar<.,aies,  therefore,  for  a  rudimentary- 
instinct.  I'reyer  l)rin<4S  forward  on  the  other  hand, 
numerous  ilhistrations  of  Axel's  grasping  for  objects 
across  the  room;  and  finally  cites  this  incident,  which 
occurred  in  the  ninety-sixth  week.  Axel  was  in  the 
garden  and  his  father  in  a  second-story  window.  Axel 
held  up  a  piece  of  paper,  asking  his  father  to  take  it, 
and  held  it  up  to  him  for  some  time,  thinking  that  he 
could  reach  his  father's  hand. 

The  various  observers  record  numberless  attempts 
and  failures  to  grasp,  but  whether  the  failure  is  due  to 
wrong  judgment  of  the  distance  or  simply  to  lack  of 
control  of  the  hand  is  not  evident  from  the  accounts. 
As  between  Baldwin  and  Preyer,  it  is  impossible  to 
form  an  opinion  until  we  have  more  extended  data. 
Observations  on  one  child  are  not  sufficient  material 
for  a  theory,  especially  when  there  is  so  much  dispute 
as  in  this  case, 
j  The  ability  to  direct  the  hand  by  the  eye  increases 
'  very  rapidly  when  once  begun,  until  the  child  of  a 
year  has  fair  control  of  the  larger  movements;  but 
how  much  he  lacks  in  detail  is  shown  by  his  difficulty 
in  doing  many  commcMi  things  He  has  to  learn  to 
carry  a  spoon  straight  to  his  mouth,  to  dress  himself, 
to  button  or  lace  his  shoes,  to  throw  a  ball — in  short, 
tt>  do  all  the  acts  that  with  us  are  so  habitual  that  we 
are  almost  unconscious  of  them. 

In  these  numberless  ways  he  is  getting  more  and 
more  definite  ideas  of  th(5  qualities  of  objects,  and  of 
their  relations  to  each  other  in  space — that  is,  ideas  of 
distance,'.  He  now  has  but  to  continue  repeating  in 
detail  what  he  has  already  gone  over  in  large. 


SENSATION    AND    PERCEPTION  QI 

\Vc  shall  sc!c  in  the  chapter  on  Growth  in  Control  of 
the  Body  that  from  the  sixth  to  the  sixteenth  year 
the  child  increases  steadily,  on  the  whole,  in  his  power 
to  manage  his  hands;  here  we  see  that  mutually  this 
is  accompanied  by  constantly  increasing 
knowledge  of  the  qualities  of  the  world  o^S^^senseV 
about  him  and  of  his  relations  to  it.  We 
have  as  yet  no  account  of  the  progress  made  from  one 
to  six  years  of  age  in  the  knowledge  of  things,  but  we 
know  how  insatiate  the  little  child  is  in  his  desire  to 
touch,  taste,  and  handle  everything  about  him.  He  is 
getting  the  knowledge  upon  which  all  that  follows 
depends.  His  senses  are  literally  the  only  avenues 
through  which  his  mind  can  be  awakened;  they  furnish 
all  the  material  with  which  memory,  thought  and  ima- 
gination will  ever  have  to  work.  If  they  are  left 
unsatisfied,  the  whole  mind  is  starved. 

We  need,  therefore,  from  the  time  when  the  senses 
become  more  active,  that  is,  from  about  the  second 
month,  to  provide  plenty  of  material  for  each  sense,  not 
forcing  it  upon  the  child,  but  putting  it  where  the  roving 
eye  and  wandering  hand  can  catch   it  and  be  satisfied. 

Bright,  pure  colors,  and  harmonious  combinations  of 
them,  beautiful  forms  and  sweet  sounds,  should  be 
provided.  For  the  hand,  all  sorts  of  objects,  hard  and 
soft,  smooth  and  rough,  accompanied  by  all  the  other 
touch  qualities,  should  be  supplied,  and  they  should 
be  of  such  a  nature  that  they  can  go  into  the  mouth 
without  injury.  A  child  must  have  objects  to  handle, 
even  though  we  do  object  to  having  our  nice  things 
spoiled  by  hot  little  hands  and  wet  mouths.  If  a  child 
can  not  handle  things,  his  knowledge  of  them  is 
always  imperfect,  and  so  he  must  be  provided  with 
things  that  he  can  work  over  to  his  heart's  content. 


92 


THE   CHILD 


Mow  seriously  rhilJren  who  ha\T  had  little  foot!  for 
their  senses  iivc.  hr.nipcrcd  (Jii  entering-  school  is  shown 
by  Dr.  Hall's  tests.  A  list  was  matle  of  the  words 
most  common  in  primers  and  first  readers; 
schoo^^work  ''"*'  '•^^"  hundred  Hoston  children  who  were 
just  bej^inniiii^  first  j^rade  work,  and  six 
hundred  and  se\x'nty-ei<4'ht  Kansas  City  children  who 
had  had  sexcn  months  of  school,  were  questioned  to 
see  what  they  knew  about  these  things.  The  results 
are  shown  in  the  followinj^  abbreviated  table. 


Object 


Bee  hive  . .    

Crow 

Bluebird 

Ant 

Squirrel 

Snail 

Robin 

vSparrovv 

Sheep  

Bee 

Frog 

Pig 

Chicken 

Worm 

Butterfly 

Hen 

Cow 

Growing  wheat 

Growing  potatoes 

Growing  dandelions.  . .  . 

Growing  apples   

Clouds 

Stars 

Moon 

Knew  wliat  woods  were 
Knew  what  river  was  .  . 
Knew  what  hill  was.  . .  . 

Hoe 

Ax 


Per  Cent  Ignorant  of  It 


Boston 

Kansas  City 

80 

59-4 

77 

47-3 

72.5 

65.5 

21-5 

63 

15 

62 

60.5 

30.6 

57.5 

54 

3-5 

52 

7 

27 

50 

2 

7 

47.5 

I 

7 

33-5 

5 

22.0 

5 

20.5 

5 

19 

I 

18.5 

5  2 

92.5 

23-4 

6r 

"  0 

21 

35 

7-3 

14 

3 

7 

26 

53-5 

48 

28 

61 

5 

12 

iS 

4 

SENSATION   AND   PERCEPTION 


93 


The  ori<:^inal  list  is  mucli  larj^cr,  but  the  ignorance 
of  such  common  things  as  those  mentioned  here  is  a 
serious  handicap  to  the  child  who  finds  them  men- 
tioned continually  in  his  school  work.  Of  course 
country  children  would  appear  to  better  advantage 
with  this  list  of  words  than  city  children  do.  The 
point,  however,  remains  the  same,  that  it  is  useless  to 
try  to  teach  a  child  about  things  until  he  knows  the 
things  themselves.  This  experience  it  is  especially  the 
part  of  the  home  and  the  kindergarten  to  supply,  for 
they  can  deal  with  the  child  just  when  he  is  eager  to 
exercise  his  senses. 

REFERENCES 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  CHILDHOOD 

This  list  includes  such  books  bearing  on  the  child's  psychical 
processes  as  discuss  a  number  of  subjects.  They  can  be  bought 
to  good  advantage  to  supplement  the  text-book.  In  many  cases 
public  libraries  contain  only  a  few  of  the  articles  referred  to 
in  the  various  bibliographies,  but  are  willing  to  buy  a  limited 
number  of  books,  and  individual  members  of  the  class  can  do  the 
same. 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.      Mental  Developtnent:    Social  and  Ethical 
Interpretations.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $2.60.     (A  discussion 
of  the  effect  of  society  upon  the  developmenc  of  each  person. 
It  shows  how  each  j^erson  makes  a  part  of  himself  what  he 
sees  in  others.) 
Chamberlain,    A.    F.     Child  and  Childhood  in   Folk-Thought. 
N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $3.00.     (The  most  complete  and  scien- 
tific resume  of  theories  upon  child-nature  and  its  parallel- 
isms with  savage  nature.) 
Compayre,   G.     Intellectual  and  Moral    Development  of   the 
Child.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  §1.50. 
Development  of  the  Child  in  Later  Infancy.     N.  Y.    Apj^le- 
ton,  $1.20. 
Dewey,  John.    The  School  and  Society.    125  pp.     (A  discussion  of 
the  relations  which  should  exist  between  the  school  and  the 


94 


THE    CHILD 


other  social  organizations.  The  way  in  which  this  theory 
was  worked  out  in  a  school  is  given  in  some  detail  in  the 
Elementary  School  Record.  Published  by  the  University 
of  Chicago  Press.)     Both  are  excellent. 

Groos,  Karl.  The  Play  of  Man.  N.  Y.  Appleton,  §1.50.  (A 
discussion  of  all  forms  of  activity  that  can  be  clas.sed  under 
play.     The  best  discussion  on  the  subject.) 

Peree,  B.  The  First  Three  Years  of  Childhood.  Syracuse. 
Bardeen,  Si. 50. 

Richmond,  Ennis.    The  Mind  of  a  Child.   N.Y.  Longmans.  §1.00. 

Sully,  James.  Studies  of  Childhood.  N.  Y.  Appleton,  §2. 50. 
(An  excellent  presentation  of  the  results  of  Child-Study.  It 
takes  up:  The  Age  of  Imagination,  Dawn  of  Reason, 
Products  of  Child  Thought,  The  Little  Linguist,  Subject  to 
Fear,  The  Raw  Material  of  Morality,  Under  Law,  The 
Child  as  Artist,  The  Young  Draughtsman,  Extracts  from  a 
Father's  Diary,  George  Sand's  Childhood.) 

Taylor,  A.  R.     Study  of  the  Child.     N.Y.     Appleton,  i^  1.2  5. 

Tracy,  F.  Psychology  of  Childhood.  Boston.  Heath.  §0.90. 
(An  excellent  short  discussion.) 

STUDIES   OF   INDIVIDUAL   CHILDREN 

Hall,  Mrs.  Winfield  S.  The  First  Five  Hundred  Days  of  a 
Child's  Life.  C.  S.  M.,  Vol.  II,  1897.  (An  accurate,  brief 
record.     Good  to  use  as  a  guide  for  a  similar  study.) 

Hogan,  Mrs.  Louise.    A  Study  of  a  Child.    N.Y.    Harpers,  §2. 50. 

Moore,  Mrs.  Kathleen  Carter.  Mental  Development  of  a  Child. 
Psy.  Rev.  Monograph  Sup.  No.  3.  (An  excellent  study, 
but  rather  technical  for  general  reading.) 

Preyer,  Wilhelm.    Development  of  the  Intellect.     N.  Y.   Apple- 
ton,  $1.50. 
The  Senses  and  the  Will.     N.Y.     Appleton,  $0.50. 
The  Infant  Mind.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.00. 
(The  first  two  books  give  by  far  the  most  detailed  study  of  one 
child  that  has  yet  been  made,  and  have  been  the  foundation 
for  all  work  that  has  been  done  since  they  were  published. 
The  appendices  to  The  Senses  and  the  TF/// contain  summa- 
ries of  much  work  done  previous  to  Preyer's.     The  Infant 
Mind'xs,  an  abbreviation  of  the  two  others.) 


SENSATION    AND   PERCEPTION 


95 


Shinn,  Milicent  W.  The  Hiography  of  a  Baby.  Boston.  Hough- 
ton, Mifflin.  $1.50.  (A  study  of  the  first  year  of  a  child's 
life.  The  story  is  deHghtfully  told  and  the  records  are 
carefully  made.  The  book  is  one  that  will  certainly  inspire 
any  one  who  cares  to  go  to  studying  children  at  once.) 

SENSATION  AND    PERCEPTION 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.     Methods  and  Processes.     N.  Y.     Macmillan, 

§1.75- 
Compayre,    G.      Intcllcciual    and  Moral    Dc7>elopnient.      pp. 

96-1C4.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  J^LSo. 
Hall,  G.  Stanley.      Contenis  of  Childre7i' s  Minds  on  Entering 

School.     N.  Y.     Kellogg,  §0.25. 
Halleck,    Reuben   Post.      Education  of   the    Central  Nervous 

System.     Chap.  VHI.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $1.00. 
McMillan,    Margaret.     Early   Childhood,     pp.    9-27.      Syracuse. 

Bardeen,  $1.  50. 
Preyer,  W.     Senses  and  Will.     Chapters  on  the  Special  Senses 

and  section  on  Seizing.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Shinn,  M.  W.     Biography  of  a   Baby.     Chapters  VI  and  VII 

especially.     Boston.     Houghton,  Mifllin,  1 1.50. 
Sull}',  James.      Studies  of    Childhood.       Appendix    containing 

Extracts  from  a  Father's  Diary.      N.  Y.     Appleton,  $2.50. 
Taylor,  A.  R.     Study  of  the  Child,     pp.  1-60.     N.  Y.     Appleton, 


CHAPTER  VI 

Memory 

1.  In  getting  data  from  adults,  have  them  write  out 
their  earliest  remembrances.  In  doing  so  they  should 
Observa-  state  (i)  the  age  as  nearly  as  possible  at  the 
tions.  time  of  the  event,  and  (2)  how  they  know 
that  it  is  not  a  false  memory,  that  is,  derived  from 
others'  accounts  of  the  event. 

2.  To  test  visual  images,  have  various  people  (i) 
match  a  color  from  memory;  (2)  write  out  how  some 
familiar  object  looks,  i)utLing  in  all  the  remembered  de- 
tails. Similar  tests  cm  be  used  for  all  kinds  of  images; 
see  the  account  of  Kirkpatrick's  work  in  this  chapter. 

3.  Keep  a  record  of  one  child  from  year  to  year,  to 
see  what  changes  occur  in  his  memories  of  different 
school  subjects;  or,  test  the  pupils  in  any  given  room 
to  see  what  subject  of  the  previous  school  year  they 
remember  best.  In  doing  this,  you  must  consider  the 
teacher  and  the  subject  that  she  likes  best,  as  well  as 
the  pupil's  interests  at  this  age. 

4.  Make  a  collection  of  number  or  calendar  forms, 
or  of  cases  of  colored  words. 

When  a  baby^sees  or  hears  or  has   any  other  sensa- 
tion, however  vague  it  is,   there  is  still   some  modifica- 
tion of  his  brain,  some  chemical  change  in 

Memory  and    ^^^   structure  of   his   nerve   cells,    and    this 
sensation. 

change    remains    when    the    sensation    has 

passed   away.     When   two   senses   are   appealed   to   at 

once   or   in    close   succession,   as   in   seeing   the  breast 

96 


MEMORY 


97 

and  nursiiif^,  two  or  more  brain  centers  are  affected, 
and  for  some  unknown  reason  fibers  of  conneciion  are 
likely  to  form  between  them.  When  this  has  hap- 
pened a  number  of  times  so  that  the  fibers  are  well 
established,  the  baby  begins  to  show  signs  of  recog- 
nition. This  happened  as  early  as  the  twenty-second 
day  with  Preyer's  boy. 

We  also  find  memory  showing  itself  faintly  in  another 
way  when  the  baby  turns  to  look  for  some  object  that 
has  just  moved  out  of  sight.  Here  there  has  hardly 
been  time  for  the  retinal  activity  that  was  roused  by 
the  object  itself  to  die  out;  the  memory  has  persisted 
only  a  short  time  after  the  sensation,  but  still  there  is 
the  beginning  of  memory. 

These  first  traces   left  by  sensations  upon  the  brain 
are -sometimes  called  organic  memories.     They  are  not 
mental   pictures  of   past  events,    but  they 
make  it  possible  for  a   baby   to   do    with     me^or^s. 
greater  ease  the  acts   which   at   first  were 
very  imperfect.     For  example,  the  first  step  in  moving 
the  eyes  simultaneously  is  thus  made  possible. 

©rganic  memory  is  what  makes  the  earliest  percep- 
tions possible.  We  have  seen  already  that  perception 
differs  from  pure  sensation,  since  in  it  the  perception 
sensation  has  become  bound  up  with  other  and  organic 
sensations,  or  rather  with  the  traces  of  ™^™o^y- 
other  sensations.  The  binding  is  done  by  organic 
memory.  The  nerve  centers  receive  a  stimulus  dif- 
ferently when  they  have  already  been  modified  by 
previous  stimuli.  They  now  contain  within  themselves 
the  changes  caused  by  previous  seeing  or  hearing,  and 
so  are  better  prepared  to  receive  again  the  same  sight 
or  sound  or  one  like  it.     It  is  very  much   like  getting 


98 


THE   CHILD 


ac(]iiaintcd  with  a  person.     The  first  time  we  meet  him, 

we  are  rather  formal,  and  the  interchange  of  thought 

is  not  very  free;  the  second  time  it  is  freer,  and  so  on. 

So  the  brain  cell  does  not  respond  readily  at  first,  but 

later  is  more  easily  aroused. 

The  same  thing  occurs  in  forming  a  habit,  except  that 

the  process  is  more  complicated.     Usually  we  limit  the 

,  term   "habit"  to    series  of  movements,   but 

Oiganlc 

memory  and  we  also  hear  the  term  "habits  of  tJioui^lit," 
habit.  ^^j  ^^  seem  to  form  habits  of  thought  much 

as  we  do  habits  of  action.  Perception — seeing  objects 
as  solids  and  as  distant,  as  having  characteristic  tastes 
and  touches  and  sounds — is  simply  the  most  inveterate 
nuMital  habit  formed,  and  is  much  the  same  for  all 
people.  Other  associations,  such  as  connecting  a  cer- 
tain dress  or  place  with  a  certain  person,  are  also 
mental  habits,  but  they  vary  greatly  with  different  per- 
sons, and  they  usually  call  into  play  memory  images 
as  well  as  organic  memories. 

In  the  case  of  habitual  movements,  we  saw  that  a 
baby  soon  learns  to  put  his  hands  to  his  mouth;  hegets 
a  connection  established  between  the  feeling  of  his 
arms  when  they  move  in  a  certain  way  and  the  pleasure 
from  sucking  his  thumb.  This  means,  on  the  physio- 
logical side,  that  fibers  of  connection  between  certain 
sets  of  brain  cells  have  come  into  contact,  so  that  now 
an  activity  in  one  set  is  likely  to  rouse  activity  in 
another  set.  Any  movements  that  occur  simultane- 
ously or  in  (juick  succession,  if  they  are  repeated  often 
enough,  and  are  pleasurable  or  aid  in  reaching  some 
end,  will  thus  become  connected  and  form  an  habitual 
series.  Then  any  movement  in  the  series  will  call  out 
the  next,  this  the  next,  and  so  on. 


MEMORY 


99 


Such  a  habit  is  an  ()r<,ranic  memory  in  the  baby.  He 
has  few  or  no  distinct  images,  but  certain  connections 
have  been  formed  between  certain  nervous  centers. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  adult,  in  such  cases  as  learning 
to  ride  a  wheel.  It  would  be  impossible  for  us  to 
describe  the  various  positions  that  we  must  assume  in 
order  to  keep  our  balance,  and  yet  our  nerve  cells  have 
learned  their  lesson  so  well  that  we  rarely  get  a  tumble. 
The  education  of  the  spinal  cord  and  brain  centers  to 
perform  long  series  of  movements  accurately  goes  on 
apace  by  means  of  organic  memory,  that  is,  by  means 
of  the  changes  made  in  the  nerve  cells  and  their  con- 
nections, which  persist  and  modify  their  future  action. 
All  this,  it  must  be  understood,  takes  place  at  least 
below  the  level  of  clear  consciousness,  and  often  below 
the  level  of  consciousness  itself,  unless  we  call  reflex 
action  conscious. 

Habits,  then,  may  be  formed  in  the  baby  or  small 
child  simply  by  regularity  in  the  conditions  about  him 
— regularity  in  his  meals,  in  the  kinds  of  food  given 
him,  in  his  hours  of  sleep  and  waking,  in  everything 
in  his  daily  life.  The  rapid  growth  of  his  nerve  cells 
makes  education  and  the  acquirement  of  habits  espe- 
cially easy. 

With  the  older  child  and  the  adult  habits  are  also 
formed  voluntarily  as  well  as  involuntarily.  We 
decide  that  we  want  to  learn  carpentry  or  embroidery, 
or  that  we  will  learn  to  tell  the  truth  or  to  acquire 
some  other  virtue.  Here  we  must  in  the  first  place 
keep  the  end  that  we  wish  to  attain  so  clearly  before 
us  that  old  associatio:'!s  can  not  besiege  us  or  forgetful- 
ness  overtake  us.  A  desire  to  reach  some  end  is  so 
essential    that    it    is    of    little   use   to   force  a  child  to 


I  GO 


THE   CHILD 


do  daily  a  lhin<,^  that  h(.'  dislikes.  The  pain  which  he 
constantly  connects  with  the  act  or  the  study  is  so 
much  stronger  than  the  other  connections  that  are 
established  that  cxeii  after  years  of  discipline  the 
habit  falls  off  wilhin  a  month  or  two  whrni  extcM'nal 
pressure  is  removed.  We  all  know  that  a  teacher  who 
wakes  herself  at  six  o'clock  for  nine  months  of  the  year 
will  sleep  until  eight  through  the-  suniiiuT  vacation, 
after  only  two  or  three  mornings  of  wakefulness.  So 
a  child  forced  to  go  through  certain  mental  or  bodily 
movements  for  which  he  feels  only  dislike  chops  them 
as  soon  as  restraint  is  taken  away. 

There  is  one  possible  exception  here  when  a  child 
has  a  prejudice  toward  a  study  or  act,  but  funis  it 
pleasurable  when  he  actually  begins  it.  In  such  a 
case  a  habit  may  be  formed,  but  not  unless  the  original 
dislike  yields  to  a  later  pleasure  or  to  a  fecognition  of 
the  value  of  the  habit.  When  a  habit  has  been  formed, 
the  first  clear  attention  which  was  necessary  for  its 
performance  is  no  longer  recjuired.  The  nerve  centers 
have  learned  their  lesson. 

just  because  a  habit  of  thcnight  or  action  frees  the 
mind    for   higher   things,  it    is    important    that   a  child 

should  at  an  earl  v  age   acquire  the  largest 
Importance  '      '^        ,    ,     ,  •  i  •    u    i 

ofgood  possible   number  of  good   hai)its  which    he 

habits.  ^yjjj    i^^jj.  ,^^.^.(1  to   unlearn   later.      It    is   un- 

pardonable for  parents  so  to  neglect  a  child  that 
when  he  is  twelve  or  fourteen  years  old  he  has  to 
spend  his  time  in  learning  regular  habits  of  (;ating, 
habits  of  cleanliness— all  those  habits  which  relieve 
him  from  constant  thought  of  his  bodily  wants  and 
make  social  intercourse  easy.  The  boy  of  this  age 
has   before   him   the   more    important  task  of   forming 


r  MEMORY  lOl 

Ifiabits  of  moral  thought  and  action.  He  is  shaping  his 
ideal  of  character,  and  he  ought  not  to  have  to  strug- 
gle constantly  over  these  little  things  which  a  small 
child  learns  so  easily. 

It  is  one  of  the  important  tasks  of  parents  therefore 
to  see  to  it  that  the  little  child  grows  insensibly  into 
good  habits  of  taking  care  of  his  body,  and  into 
the  social  habit  of  considering  others  equally  with 
himself. 

From  another  standpoint  we  can  see  how  deep  the 
traces  of  our  early  experiences  go  when  we  consider 
our    earliest    recollections.      It     has    always   been    of 
much   interest  to  men  to  ascertain  how  far  back  their 
memories  go,  and  it  is  also  of  interest   to        Earliest 
teachers  and  parents  to  know  whether  the       recoiiec- 
experiences  of  infancy  and  early  childhood         ^°°^' 
will  be  remembered  by  the  adult. 

Sometimes  we  find  a  person  who  claims  to  remember 
an  event  occurring  in  the  first  year  of  life,  but  few  of 
us  can  go  back  of  the  fourth  year.  Even  then  we  are 
likely  to  confuse  true  memory  with  descriptions  that 
have  been  given  to  us.  Do  events  previous  to  the 
fourth  year,  then,  have  no  effect  upon  later  life? 
On  the  contrary,  in  those  important  years  many 
things  have  been  acquired — notably  walking  and  talking 
— which  through  constant  practice  are  never  forgotten, 
and  it  seems  probable  that  these  early  experiences 
I'jave  traces  upon  the  growing  mind  and  brain  that 
determine  to  a  large  extent  the  emotional  tempera- 
ment of  the  child — the  likes  and  dislikes,  which  either 
direct  him  well  or  must  be  fought  and  conquered  with 
much  effort  later  on.  There  is  not  much  collected 
evidence    here,    but    what    there    is    is   suggestive.     It 


lo: 


THE    CHILD 


is  well  known  that  if  a  little  child  receives  a  severe 
fright,  fear  is  likely  to  persist  far  into  adult  life, 
although  the  jjerson  forgets  the  occasion  that  gave  rise 
to  the  fear.  The  image  is  lost,  but  the  organic  and 
emotional  effects  persist.  Dr.  G.  Stanley  Hall  tells  us 
that  u[)on  visiting  the  farm  where  he  lived  until  one 
and  one-half  years  old,  the  feeling  of  familiarity  was 
strong,  and  at  special  places  a  decided  emotional  tone 
arose,  without  any  knowledge  of  what  experience  was 
connected  with  that  place.  We  have  other  records 
of  adults  going  to  places  connected  with  babyhood  or 
early  childhood  of  which  they  had  ncxcr  hrvn  told  and 
having  this  same  emotional  tone  and  ft:elingof  familiar- 
ity. Most  interesting  is  the  following  anecdote  told  of 
Helen  Keller.  She  became  deaf  and  blind  when  about 
one  and  one-half  years  old.  Before  that  time  her  father 
used  to  sing  to  her,  esp(;cially  two  plantation  songs  of 
which  she  was  very  fond.  One  day,  when  she  was  a 
girl  of  eighteen  and  had  been  taught  to  speak,  and 
was  at  the  piano  "feeling  the  music,"  those  songs  were 
played  to  her.  At  first  she  was  bewildered,  and 
painfully  excited;  then  she  repeated  some  of  the 
words  of  one  of  the  songs.  There  were  evidently  con- 
nections between  the  touch  center  and  the  auditory 
and  word  centers,  such  that  these  dispositions,  left 
from  the  first  year  and  a  half  of  life,  could  be  revived. 
There  are  other  cases  also  of  disease  bringing  back 
memories  of  very  early  childhood. 

Now  if  this  is  generally  true,  the  first  four  years  of 
life  are  as  important  educationally  as  any  that  succeed, 
or  rather,  they  are  more  important.  Nothing  can  be 
so  important  as  to  start  a  child  out  in  life  with  good 
health    and    with    a    lualth\-    eijuipment    of    emotions 


MEMORY 


103 


and  habitual  actions.  That  tlicse  can  not  be  supplied 
by  talk,  is  ex'idcnt.  Example  is  the  only  teacher. 
Everything  that  is  given  to  the  child  should  be  of  such 
a  character  that  the  feelings  and  actions  aroused  by  it 
can  be  the  basis  for  the  finer  emotions  and  actions  that 
come  later.  He  should  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  trust 
and  confidence,  where  there  is  no  fretting  and  worry, 
much  less  dislike  and  hate.  The  music  and  storit;s 
that  are  gi\'en  him  should  cultivate  the  positive, 
serene,  fearless,  high-minded  attitudes.  I  have  seen 
some  little  children  whose  confidence  and  joy  were 
such  as  to  make  one  believe  almost  anything  possible 
in  this  direction.  We  must  be  sure  that  our  children's 
restlessness  and  whining  are  not  simply  the  reflection 
of  our  own  worry  and  cowardice  before  we  can  assert 
the  powerlessness  of  early  surroundings  to  shape  the 
very  little  child. 

So  far  memory  has  been  considered  principally 
as  a  matter  of  the  changes  in  nerve  centers,  but  in  its 
narrower  meaning  memory  includes  rather  Development 
the  mental  side^the  revival  in  conscious-  ofmemory 
ness  of  some  previous  experience.  How  ^"^^^es. 
this  conscious  revival  of  an  experience  develops  is 
what  we  wish  to  trace  now.  Preyer's  observations  on 
this  point  may  be  given  in  full  here,  as  most  other 
observers  agree  substantially  with  him.  The  first 
memory  image  is  one  of  taste,  followed  by  smell, 
touch,  sight,  and  hearing,  in  the  order  given.  On  the 
twenty-second  day,  his  boy  associated  the  breast  with 
nursing,  as  was  shown  by  his  movements.  During  the 
second  and  third  months,  the  presence  of  strange  faces 
excited  wonder,  but  the  absence  of  familiar  ones  was 
not  noticed.     The  memor\'  {o\-  faces  was  the  first  visual 


JQ4  THE    CHILD 

memory.  In  the  twenty-fourth  week,  the  baby  saw 
his  father's  image  in  the  mirror  and  at  once  turned 
to  look  at  his  father,  evicU-ntl)'  recognizing;  the  image. 
In  the  twenty-sixth  week,  he  repeated  this,  and  com- 
pared the  face  with  the  image,  turning  from  one  to  the 
other  several  times,  but  he  had  as  yet  little  distinct 
memory.  In  the  seventh  month,  he  did  not  recognize 
his  nurse  after  an  absence  of  four  weeks.  Not  until 
the  forty-third  week  did  he  miss  his  parents  when  they 
were  absent,  or  miss  a  favorite  toy  when  it  was  gone. 
Another  observer  says  that  one  little  girl  of  ten 
months  recognized  her  father  after  four  days'  absence. 
Perez  also  quotes  the  case  of  a  child  seven  or  eight 
months  old  who  very  much  wanted  a  piece  of  bread 
that  looked  like  some  favorite  cake.  When  he  tasted 
it,  he  threw  it  away  angrily,  showing  that  he  had  an 
image  of  the  taste  of  the  cake,  with  which  the  reality 
did  not  agree. 

In  the  fifty-seventh  and  fifty-eighth  weeks,  in  look- 
ing at  the  image  in  the  mirror  and  at  a  picture  of  him- 
self, Preyer's  boy  apparently  recognized  both  and 
passed  his  hands  to  the  back  of  each,  much  puzzled  by 
the  differences  he  saw.  Evidently  the  memory  was 
becoming  more  distinct  and  detailed.  In  the  sixtieth 
week,  he  recognized  his  mother's  image  as  different 
from  the  reality. 

In  the  sixty-first  week,  he  Inirned  his  finger  in  the 
candle,  after  which  he  never  put  it  in  again,  though  he 
would  jokingly  make  movements  in  that  direction. 
The  memory  image  of  the  pain  was  well  developed, 
though  memories  as  a  rule  were  not  stable.  In  the 
twenty-third  month,  he  recognized  the  playthings  from 
which  he  had  been  parted  nearly  three  months,  which 


MEMORY  105 

pro\'es   him    well    started    toward    the  development  of 
imagination. 

In  these  first  experiences  the  baby's  memory  is  a 
very  vague  one.  As  James  says,  his  world  is  a  "big, 
blooming,  buzzing  confusion,"  whose  parts  Freeing  of 
have  to  be  made  distinct  from  each  other  memory 
and  shaped  into  distinct,  unified  objects.  images. 
One  certain  experience,  like  being  fed,  is  repeated 
under  many  conditions — now  in  light,  and  now  in  dark- 
ness, now  in  one  room  and  now  in  another.  The  two 
constant  things,  that  his  mother  is  always  there  and 
that  his  hunger  is  always  satisfied,  by  their  constant 
repetition  and  great  satisfaction  become  impressed 
upon  him,  so  that  he  soon  recognizes  his  mother. 
Take  also  his  recognition  of  his  mother's  face.  At 
first  certainly  it  is  to  him  only  a  light  patch  against  a 
darker  background,  moving  from  one  place  to  another. 
But  as  he  sees  more  distinctly  and  is  able  to  follow  it 
with  his  eyes,  he  learns  that  all  the  different  appear- 
ances, side  and  front  and  back  views,  belong  to  his 
mother's  face,  and  the  constant  repetition  of  that  face 
with  its  accompaniment  of  increased  comfort  soon 
teaches  him  to  recognize  it  apart  from  any  one  place 
or  time.  In  brief,  the  memory  image  becomes  freed 
from  memories  of  any  particular  time  and  place  by 
having  the  one  constant  experience  —  the  mother's 
face — in  many  times  and  places.  This  is  the  usual 
experience. 
/  When  psychologists  use  the  term  "image,"  they 
'  mean  any  revival  of  a  former  experience  in  a  form 
distinct  enough  for  us  to  look  at  it  mentally  and 
describe  it.  The  revival  of  the  sound  of  a  piano,  of 
the  color  of  a  sunset,  of  the  taste  and  smell  of  coffee, 


Iq5  the  child 

of  the  "feel"   of  velvet,   and    of  the  exertion  of  run- 
ning   or    stretching,    are    all    etjually    images.      If   we 
place   in  these  some  definite  time  when  we 

Memory  experienced  them,  we  say  the  image  is  a 

images.  ^  '  -^  ,  •  , 

memory  image;  while  if  we  combine  them 

in  new  forms,  we  approach  imagination.  Memory 
images,  that  is,  reproduce  our  past  life  in  much  the 
same  form  as  we  lived  it;  imagination  makes  new  com- 
binations. 

Images  are  evidently  derived  in  the  first  place,  there- 
fore, from  our  sense  life;  that  is,  we  get  our  materials 
of  knowledge  through  the  special  sense  organs— the 
eye,  ear,  skin,  nose,  tongue  and  the  movements  of  the 
muscles.  The  feelings  aroused  in  this  way  directly 
by  objects,  we  call  sensations  or  perceptions  of  sight, 
sound,  touch,  smell,  taste  and  movement;  and  when, 
in  the  absence  of  the  object,  the  sensation  or  percep- 
tion is  revived  or  remembered,  we  have  images  of 
sight,  sound,  etc.,  or,  to  use  the  Latin  terms,  visual, 
auditory,  tactile,  olfactory  gustatory  and  motor 
images. 

If  you  recall  your  childhood's  home,  you  will  prob- 
ably get  good  examples  of  most  of  these.  You  can 
see  in  your  mind's  eye  the  old  house,  its  various 
rooms  and  the  people  in  them  (visual);  you  can  hear 
your  mother's  voice  (auditory);  you  can  taste  some 
especial  food  that  she  excelled  in  cooking  (gustatory); 
you  can  probably  smell  some  characteristic  flavor  or 
garden  product  or  perhaps  some  medicine  that  you 
had  to  take  (olfactory);  you  can  feel  your  mother's 
kiss  or,  perhaps,  some  whipping  or  spanking  you 
received;  and  you  will  probably  find  that  almost  all 
your  memories  of   the    place   are   bound   up  with  your 


MEMORY 


107 


feelings   of    movement   about    it -climbing  trees    and 

hay-mow,  and  so  on. 

In  each   person  some  of  these   classes  of  images  are 

much  more  distinct   than  others.     Usually  the  visual 

images  are  clearest,  and  are  bound  up  with 

,         •      1-   .  •       ^  i.  •  Most  com- 

comparatively     indistinct     motor    images.       mon  types. 

The   auditory   come   next,    and   the   others 

are   still    less   prominent.      About   one   person    in    six 

has    more    distinct    motor    images    than    visual;    and, 

rarely,  we  find   a  person   whose  touch  or  smell  images 

are  the  clearest. 

When  from  birth  or  by  accident   a  child   is  deprived 

of  any  sense  organ,  the   corresponding    images   grow 

dim,  and   usually  disappear  if  the  accident 

1    1     r      '    .  I  c  c  A  Unusual 

happened  before  the  age  of  four  years.      A  ^^^^g^ 

blind  person,  for  instance,  blind  from  three 
years  on,  has  no  images  of  color  or  form  except 
what  he  gets  from  touch.  A  deaf  person  has  no  sound 
images.  Only  with  the  greatest  difficulty  can  we 
imagine  what  the  mental  life  of  a  Helen  Keller  must 
be  like.  In  her  Autobiography,  in  all  her  descrip- 
tions, the  terms  are  those  of  touch,  movement  and 
smell,  with  one  or  two  visual  terms  almost  certainly 
obtained  from  her  teacher.  Can  you  imagine  the 
enjoyment  of  music  from  the  jolting  of  the  vibrations 
of  the  instrument?  Or  how  it  would  seem  to  have  your 
appreciation  of  flowers  determined  solely  by  their 
perfume  and  texture?  The  vast  world  of  pictures  and 
natural  scenery  is  non-existent  for  her.  Of  course 
there  is  some  compensation,  for  the  senses  that  are 
left  become  much  more  acute,  and  the  images  corre- 
spondingly so,  but  still  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  imagine 
how  we  should  feel  under  such  conditions. 


I08  THE   CHILD 

And  yet  the  same  differences,  although  to  less 
degree,  exist  between  ourseKes  and  other  persons  and 
ourselves  and  the  children  we  teach.  You, 
educSfon^  let  us  say,  are  especially  a  visualist.  If 
you  can  read  a  good  description  in  visual 
terms,  or  see  a  diagram  or  drawing,  you  can  understand 
a  thing  perfectly.  But  this  child  is  a  motile.  The 
visual  terms  call  up  only  shadowy,  indistinct  images  to 
him,  and  your  diagram  is  actually  confusing.  He 
never  would  think  of  representing  the  facts  in  that  way, 
and  he  feels  more  and  more  like  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land  as  he  reads  on  in  the  book.  The  audile  has  much 
the  same  experience.  Yet  neither  is  a  stupid  child; 
each  only  needs  a  little  help  to  translate  the  lesson 
into  his  own  images.  When  you  remember  how  much 
of  our  school  work  is  predominantly  visual,  you  can 
see  in  what  hard  straits  these  two  classes  of  children 
are  put.  VVe  even  invent  methods  whose  whole  ten- 
dency is  to  throw  all  the  stress  of  learning  upon  the 
visual  image. 

If  we  consider  for  a  moment,  we  can  see  how  artifi- 
cial any  such  method  is.  In  his  daily  experience  a 
child  never  uses  one  sense  alone.  A  boy  with  a  new 
marble  looks  at  it,  rings  it,  and  tries  it  in  shooting 
before  he  feels  really  accjuainted  with  it.  He  gets  all 
kinds  of  impressions  from  it  that  he  can,  and  many  of 
them  are  simultaneous.  It  is  true  that  some  one  or 
two  feelings  emerge  from  the  others  and  stand  as  sym- 
bols for  the  rest,  but  the  presence  of  the  others  gives  a 
background  and  richness  of  meaning  whose  impor- 
tance we  do  not  sufficiently  estimate.  Take  our  own 
experiences — we  never  can  go  to  an  exhibition  without 
being   greeted   on   all   sides  by  requests   not  to  touch 


MEMORY 


109 


anything,  and   how  defrauded   we   all    feci  by  such  an 
order  is  evident  from  the  disregard  of  it. 

We  say  that  only  a  man  of  the  same  craft  can  fully 
appreciate  a  certain  piece  of  work,  because  he  can  enter 
into  its  difficulties  and  delights — that  is,  he  alone  has 
all  the  sorts  of  images  that  constitute  the  memory  of 
its  making.  A  woman  who  has  never  done  embroidery 
grumbles  at  the  price  she  has  to  pay  for  it;  the  one 
who  has  done  it  may  not  like  the  price  either,  but  she 
says  the  work  is  worth  it — she  has  the  other  images 
that  put  into  the  visual  image  a  deeper  meaning  than 
the  first  woman  can  get. 

So  with  the  children,  let  us  give  them  as  great  a 
variety  of  images  as  possible,  while  still  appealing  to 
the  form  most  clear  to  each.  Present  a  subject  in  such 
various  ways  that  at  least  one  way  shall  appeal  to  the 
visualist,  the  audile  and  the  motile,  and  then  bind 
the  proper  motor  expression  with  it  strongly  and 
indissolubly  by  giving  opportunities  for  expression  in 
some  form  of  handwork.  The  importance  of  expression 
has  already  been  emphasized  in  various  places;  here 
again  it  comes  up  as  the  final  test  of  the  clearness  of 
the  image  and  also  as  the  clarifier  of  the  image. 

In  1885  the  experiments  of  Ebbinghaus  on  memory 
were  published,  in  which  were  stated  in  an  exact  and 
general  form  facts  which  before  were  only 
vaguely  recognized.     As  later  experiment     of  memory, 
has   confirmed    these  for  children    as  well 
as  for  adults,  an  account  of  them   is   in   order  here. 

Ebbinghaus  took  2,300  meaningless  syllables  and 
shook  them  together,  then,  drawing  them  out  haphaz- 
ard, he  made  lists  of  them,  varying  in  length  from  six 
to  sixteen  syllables.     These  lists  were  then  repeated 


I  JO  THE    CHILD 

to  the  subject  in  a  monotonous  voice,  at  regular  inter- 
vals, until  he  could  reproduce  the  list  correctly.  A 
very  large  number  of  experiments  was  made  thus,  and 
elaborate  precautions  were  taken  to  eliminate  the 
effects  of  fatigue,  of  association,  of  health,  etc.  As 
the  outcome,  Ebbinghaus  was  able  to  formulate  certain 
laws  thus: 

1.  A  long  list  requires  more  than  a  proportionate 
number  of  repetitions  before  it  is  memorized,  e.g., 
a  list  of  seven  syllables  required  but  one  repetition; 
one  of  twelve,  seventeen  rei)etitions;  one  of  sixteen, 
thirty  repetitions. 

2.  Poetry,  into  which  enter  associations  of  sense 
and  rhythm,  requires  but  one-tenth  as  many  repetitions 
as  the  nonsense  syllables. 

3.  There  is  an  unconscious  or  what  we  have  called 
an  organic  memory,  for  even  when  a  list  previously 
learned  is  so  forgotten  that  it  is  not  recognized,  it 
requires  but  two-thirds  of  the  original  number  of  repe- 
titions to  relearn  it. 

4.  Forgetting  proceeds  thus: 

After  I  hour,  more  than  one-half  the  original  work 
must  be  done  in  relearning  the  list. 

After  8  hours,  two-thirds  of  the  original  work. 

After  24  hours,  about  two-thirds  of  the  original 
work. 

After  6  days,  three-fourths  of  the  original  work. 

After  I  month,  four-fifths  of  the  original  work. 

That  is,  forgetting  occurs  much  more  rapidly  dur- 
ing the  first  eight  hours  than  afterward,  and  after  one 
week  occurs  so  slowly  that  it  is  hardly  perceptible 
except  over  a  long  lapse  of  time.  This  shows  the  great 
value  to  the  teacher  of  reviewing  each  day  the  previous 


MEMORY 


I  I  I 


clay's  lesson,  in  order  to  find  out   how  much  her  pupils 
are  likely  to  retain  permanently. 

5.  When  once  learned,  a  long  series  is  retained  better 
than  a  short  one. 

6.  When  many  repetitions  are  necessary,  distribution 
of  them  over  a  longer  period  of  time  lessens  the 
number.  For  instance,  a  series  of  twelve  sylla-bles 
required  thirty-eight  repetitions  when  distributed  over 
four  days;  but  sixty-four  when  the  repetitions  were 
consecutive. 

7.  Associations  are  formed  between  all  the  members 
of  a  series,  so  that  even  if  the  order  is  changed,  the 
series  is  more  easily  learned  than  at  first.  The  strength 
of  the  association  is  less  when  moving  backward  than 
forward;  and  less  for  members  of  the  series  farther  off 
than  for  the  nearer  ones. 

Mr.  Jacobs  and  Mrs.  Bryant  took  up  one  of  the 
details  of  Ebbinghaus's  work  and  experimented  with 
school  children  to  ascertain  how  long  a  series  could  be 
learned  with  one  repetition;  how  the  span  of  memory 
{i.e.,  the  length  of  series  thus  learned)  varied  with  age, 
and  what  relation  it  bore  to  the  pupil's  rank  in  school. 
They  used  digits,  omitting  7,  and  letters,  omitting  w, 
as  more  uniform  in  sound  than  nonsense  syllables. 
They  give  the  following  table  for  the  span  of  girls. 


Age 

No,  girls 

No.  nos. 
No.  let'rs 


8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

18 

8 

13 

19 

36 

41 

42 

42 

72 

66 

50 

30 

6.6 

6.7 

6.8 

7.2 

7.4 

7.3 

7-3 

7.7 

8 

8 

8.6 

6 

7 

6.6 

4.6 

6.5 

6.7 

6.7 

7.4 

7.9 

7.3 

8.2 

19 
14 

8.6 
8.9 


This  shows  that  the  span  increases  with  age.  They 
found  also  that  the  children  with  the  largest  spans 
were  usually  those  whom  the  teachers  classed  as  their 


I  I  2  THE   CHILD 

best  students,  although  there  were  some  exceptions. 
l^olton  also  found  that  the  highest  span  is  a  measure 
of  the  power  of  attention;  but  he  puts  the  limit  of  the 
memory  span  for  numbers  as  six  for  public  school 
pupils.  The  span  for  girls  is  also  higher  than  for  boys. 
All  observers  find  that  the  girls'  memory  is  better  than 
the  boys'. 

Finally,  Kirkpatrick  experimented  upon  pupils  from 
the  primary  grade  through  college  to  find  what  kind  of 
memory  images  were  best  held.  To  do  this,  he  first 
made  three  lists,  two  of  ten  words  each,  and  one  of 
common  objects,  avoiding  associations  as  much  as  possi- 
ble. One  list  was  read  to  the  pupils;  the  words  of  the 
second  were  shoivfi  one  by  one  upon  the  board;  and  the 
objects  named  in  the  third  list  were  shown.  The  pupils 
were  then  asked  to  write  out  as  many  words  in  each  list 
as  possible.  It  was  found  that  6.85  words  out  of  the 
ten  in  the  list  heard  \vQ.re.  recalled;  6.92  of  the  ten  in  the 
list  see?7 ;  and  8.28  of  iho.  objects  seen;  that  is,  the  audi- 
tory memory  was  poorest;  the  visual  memory  of  the 
word  next,  and  the  memory  of  the  object  itself  the 
best. 

The  memory  of  the  college  students  was  but  two 
words  better  than  that  of  the  primary  children. 

They  were  then  given  three  more  lists  of  words. 
The  first  consisted  of  names  of  sounds,  and  the  pupils 
were  asked  to  think  of  the  sound;  the  second,  of  names 
of  colors,  or  lights  and  shades,  and  they  were  asked  to 
think  of  them;  the  third,  of  names  of  objects,  and  they 
were  asked  to  recall  the  object.  They  were  then  asked 
to  write  out  the  lists.  The  results  show  that  6.98 
names  out  of  the  ten  in  the  first  list  were  recalled;  7.91 
of   the   ten    in  the  second;  and  7.48  of  the  ten   in  the 


MEMORY 


113 


third.  That  is,  the  visual  images  of  colors,  or  lights 
and  shades  were  slightly  better  than  the  auditory 
images  of  sounds,  or  the  memories  of  objects. 

After  three  days,  they  were  asked  to  write  out  what 
they  could  recall  of  the  first  three  lists,  with  the  start- 
ling result  that  .91  of  list  two,  and  6.29  of  list  three 
were  recalled.  That  is,  while  the  visual  memory- 
average  of  the  words  had  declined  to  less  than  one 
word,  from  the  original  6.92,  the  memory-average  of 
the  object  itself  was  lessened  only  by  two  from  that 
immediately  after  the  experience.  There  could  hardly 
be  a  stronger  illustration  of  the  superiority  of  things 
to  words  in  early  education,  and  of  the  activity  of  the 
senses  and  its  effects  upon  memory. 

Kirkpatrick's  experiments  can  hardly  be  considered 
tests  of  the  pure  auditory  and  visual  word  images,  for 
any  word  has  numberless  associations  with  it  that 
modify  our  image  and  memory  of  it.  The  experiments 
where  numbers  or  letters  or  nonsense  syllables  were 
used  to  exclude  associations,  show  that  with  younger 
children  pure  auditory  memories  are  stronger  than 
pure  visual;  while  with  adults  the  reverse  is  the  case. 
,  As  the  child  grows,  characteristic  interests  arise 
flA>'and  control  his  memories.  The  best  memory  for  boys 
— 42  per  cent — is  in  the  first  year  of  high 
school;  for  girls,  the  maximum  of  47  per  Effect  of  age 
cent  is  also  in  high  school;  the  poorest  on  memory, 
memories  for  both  boys  and  girls,  17  and  18 
per  cent,  are  in  the  third  grade.  Negroes  and  white 
children  seem  to  be  nearly  equal  as  to  mere  memory. 

Taking  into  consideration  interest  as  well  as  age,  it 
has  been  found*  that  during  the  period  from  one  to 

♦Colegrove. 


114 


THE   CHILD 


five,  visual,  auditory  and  motor  memories  are  very 
prominent.  From  the  fifth  to  the  ninth  year,  the  motor 
memories  of  girls  increase  markedly  but  decrease  from 
ten  on ;  in  boys,  they  increase  slowly  from  five  on,  culmi- 
nating at  fifteen.  In  both  cases  we  trace  directly  the 
effect  of  habits  of  life.  Girls,  after  the  tenth  year, 
usually  exercise  much  less  freely  than  before,  while 
boys  after  that  age  constantly  increase  the  amount  of 
exercise. 

From  ten  to  eleven  both  boys'  and  girls'  memories 
for  near  relatives  increase;  and  from  twelve  to  thirteen 
decrease,  but  increase  for  all  acquaintances,  marking 
the  entrance  into  wider  social  relationships  so  charac- 
teristic of  adolescence.  Between  fourteen  and  fifteen, 
the  visual  and  auditory  memories  of  both  increase 
greatly  and  also  mmnories  of  places,  doubtless  mark- 
ing the  beginning  of  a  wider  esthetic  sense. 

If  the  above  statements  are  correct,  is  it  not  a  mis- 
take to  postpone  manual  training,  sewing  and  so  on, 
to   the   high   school   age?      Should   we  not 

f!!!fi!;!?i^nl  '■■'^thc-r  put  them  at*  the  time  when  the 
applications.  '      _  _ 

motor  brain  regions  are  so  active  as  this 
abundance  of  memories  proves  them  to  be?  Again, 
what  is  to  be  done  with  the  child  of  the  third  grade, 
when  memory  is  comparatively  poor?  We  saw  before 
that  this  is  one  of  the  periods  of  rapid  growth.  Is  it  a 
tinu;  when  school  work  should  be  lightened?  That 
the  auditory  memories  are  best  in  children  under  four- 
teen, points  to  the  value  of  beginning  the  study  of  lan- 
guages early,  and  any  work  that  demands  memorizing 
and  has  little  reasoning  connected  with  it.  With  adults, 
the  best  way  to  memorize  is  to  get  a  system  or  theory 
around  which    memories   can  cluster.     With    the  child 


MEMORY  I  J  c 

this   plan   too  should   be   followed,  but  committing   to 
memory  is  much  easier  than  with  adults. 

Finally,  the  widening  of  memories  for  friends  and 
esthetic  objects  between  fourteen  and  fifteen,  points  to 
the  importance  of  widening  the  child's  experience  in 
both  these  lines.  In  all  cases,  we  seem  to  see  the 
close  connection  between  interests  and  memory. 

In  a  former  chapter  we  spoke  of  the  effect  of  fatigue 
and  health  upon  memory,  showing  that   in  proportion 
as   health   was   poor  or   fatigue  was  great,      conditions 
memory  diminished.     Health  and  freshness     of  good 
are,  then,  two  conditions  for  a  good   mem-     "i^^o^y- 
ory.      On  the  mental   side,  to  train   a  child's  memory, 
take  up  a  subject   when   his  memory  for  that   class  of 
things   is  best   and   so  present  it  that  he  shall  feel  its 
close  connection  with  his  own  life  and  shall  be  on  the 
q7n  vive  to  get  information  about   it.      Knowledge  so 
obtained  has  many  interconnections  and  holds  together 
well.      No  other  will  endure. 

Mothers  and  teachers  not  infrequently  find  certain 
mental  peculiarities  in  their  children  that  they  do  not 
know  the  significance  of  and  are  in  doubt 
how  to  treat.  Among  these  are  "colored  ^nditi^ons. 
hearing,"  and  number, word  and  time  forms. 
Quite  a  large  proportion  of  people  connect  certain 
colors  with  certain  sounds,  or  with  certain  words  or 
letters.  The  high  notes  of  a  violin  may  seem  pale 
l)lue;  the  resonant  trumpet  tone,  blood  red,  and  so  on. 
Each  letter  of  the  alphabet  may  have  its  characteristic 
color,  or  all  the  vowels,  or  only  names  of  persons.  It 
is  practically  impossible  in  many  cases  to  find  the  origin 
of  these  various  associations,  but  they  may  go  back  to 
very  early  memories,  or  they  may  be  due   to  unusual 


ii6 


THE   CHILD 


conjTcnital  connections  between  the  brain-centers  con- 
cerned.    They  do   not  mark   any  mental  abnormality, 

and  it  is  not  wise  to 
ridicule  a  child  who 
has  them.  To  him 
they  are  perfectly  nat- 
ural. 

Number,  calendar 
and  alphabet  forms 
are  much  more  com- 
mon.    It  is  estimated 


3ZO 


US 
u'o 


50 


eo 


.oo 


Diagram  5.  Number  Form  of 
Mr.  Walter  Lauden,  Form- 
erly op  Chei.tunham  College, 
England.  The  Faint  Lines 
Are  TO  Show  THE  Pfrspectivk. 
(Galton.) 

that  of  men  one-sixth 
to  one-fifteenth  pos- 
sess some  kind  of 
form,  and  of  children 
and  women  a  lari^er 
proportion.       In    all 

such    cases,    the     num-         Diackam  6.     an    Hi;ki;ijitaky    Ni.MUER   Form 
hert?      dTVS      or     letters         Common  to  a  brother  and  sister.  (Galton.\ 

are  arranged  in  a  definite  form  in  which  the    person 
always   sees   them.     The  diagram   may  be  colored  or 


MEMORY 


not.  Several  forms  are  shown  in  Diajrrams  5  to  10. 
form  is  the  same  for  the  same  person  from  year  to 
It  seems  so  necessary  to  the  person  that  he  can  h 
imagine  how  he  could 
do  without  it.  It 
varies  from  the  sim- 
plest arrangement  to 
exceedingly  com- 
plex ones  of  definite 
shapes,  in  which  each 
number  has  its  place. 
Herealsothe  origin 


117 

This 
year, 
ardly 


/ 

0 

\ 

rf/ 

vH 

/"7 

r\ 

/  °*  / 

r\ 

/      oe  r 

r\ 

/          001  ■ 

io  A 

9     10     JU 


10 


Diagram  7.  Number  Form  of 
Prof.  Schuster,  an  English 
Physicist.  The  NuiMbers 
Are  on  a  Kind  of  Horsf 
Snf)E  Lying  on  a  Slightly 
Inclined  Plane.  (Galton.) 


Diagram  8.  A  Complex  Num- 
ber Form  Made  Up  of  Dots 
Running  Up  to  1,000.  In  10, 
etc., THE  Odd  Dot  May  Ap- 
pear at  Any  opthe  Corners 
Marked  X.     (Galton.) 


is  difficult  to  trace. 
In  some  cases  it 
seems  to  be  heredi- 
tary— several  successive  generations  having  the  same 
form.  In  others,  its  origin  is  hidden  in  obscurity.  As 
with  the  colored  hearing,  it  does  not  mark  any  abnor- 
mality, and  the  best  policy  is  to  leave  it  alone.     On 


Diac;ram  9.  An  Hereditary  Number  Form 
Showing  Peculiarities  which  Run  through 
A  Whole  Family.     (Galton.) 


ii8 


THE   CHILD 


the  other  hand,  one  attempt  at  least  has  been  made  to 
teach  a  number  form  to  all  children,  but  the  wisdom  of 
this  is  questionable. 

The  material  for  memories  comes  throu^di  the  various 
sense  organs  and  takes  the  form  of  sight,  sound, 
smell,  taste,  touch,  and  motor  images.  Of 
these,  the  visual  motor  and  auditory  motor 
are  the  most  common  forms,  although  we  find  occa- 
sional cases,  especially  among  the  deaf  and  blind, 
where  touch  and  smell  are  the  most  prominent.   Usually, 


Summary. 


DiAfiRAM  lo.     Nimuf.k  Fokm  op  a  Genti-rmen  who  Leakned  to  Tell  the  Time 
AT  A  Veky  Eakly  Ace.    The  Most  Prominent  Nimbeks  Are  Those  Found 

IN  THE  MULTII'LICATION  TaUI.E,   F.SI'E(.  I  ALLY  12.       (GaLTON.) 

there  is  more  or  less  combination  of  all  the  forms 
in  memory,  just  as  there  is  combined  use  of  most  of 
the  senses  in  ordinary  experience,  and  hence  it  is  use- 
ful to  give  a  child  all  sorts  of  sense  experiences.  He 
thereby  gains  a  valuable  background  of  images  upon 
which  he  can  depend  if  any  one  image  is  at  fault. 
Memories  of  individual  experiences  do  not  usually  go 
back  of  the  fourth  year,  but  experiences  previous  to 
that  age  leave  their  mark  on  temperament  and  feelings. 
The  vividness  of  memories  at  any  age  varies  with  the 
condition  of  health  aiul  llie  interests  of  that  age. 


MEMORY 


REFERENCES 


119 


MEMORY 

Aikin,  C.     Methods  of  Mind  Training.     N.  Y.    Am.  Book,  $1.00. 
Bolton,  T.  L.     Growth  of  Memory  in  School  Children.     Am. Jour. 

Psy.,  Vol.  IV,  362-380. 
Burnham,  W.  H.     Memory.     Am.  Jour,  of  Psy.,  Vol.  11,  568-622. 
Colegrove,  F.  W.     Individual  Memories.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Jan., 

1899,  Vol.  X,  228-255.     (Good.) 
Compayre,   G.      Intellectual  and  Moral  Development  oj  the 

Child.     Chapter  on  Memory.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Ebbinghau.s,  H.      Ueber  das  Geddchtniss.     Summarized  in  Burn- 
ham's  article.  (See  above.)  Lpz.  Duncker&  Humblot,  1885. 
Hall,  G.  S.     Early  Memories.     Ped.  Sem.,  VI,  4S5-512. 
Hartog,  M.      Interpolation   in   Memory.      Contemp.   Rev.,    igoo. 

Vol.  LXXVIII,  532-539- 
Hawkins,  C.  J.     Experiments  in  Memory  Types.     Psy.  Rev.,  IV. 
Herrick,  C.  L.     Propagation  of  Memories.     Psy.  Rev.,  IV,  294. 
Kirkpatrick,  E.  A.     An   Experimental  Study  of  Memory.     Psy. 

Rev.,  I,  602-609. 
Perez,  B.     First  Three  Years  of  Childhood.    121-130.    Syracuse. 

Bardeen,  §1.50. 
Preyer,  W.  Senses  and  Will.  See  Index.    N.  Y.  Appleton,  $1.50. 
Ribot,  Th.     Diseases  of  Memory.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Shaw,  J.  C.     Memor}'  of  School  Children.     Ped.  Se?n.,  IV,  61-78. 
Stetson,  G.  R.     Memory  Tests  on  Whites  and  Blacks.    Psy.  Rev., 

IV,  285-289. 

Talbot.  Ellen  B.     Attempt  to  Train  Visual  Memory.     Am.  Jour. 
Psy.,  Vol.  VIII.     (Account  of  rather  artificial  training.) 

NUMBER    FORMS 

Colkins,  M.  W.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Vol.  V,  269-271. 

Galton,   Francis.      Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty.     Section  on 

Number  Forms.     L.     Macmillan,  §4.00. 
Hornbrook,  Adelia  R.      Pedagogical  Value  of  Number  Forms. 

Educ.  Rev.,  May,  1893,  Vol.  V,  467-480. 
Krohn,   Wm.    O.      Pseudochronosthesia.    Am.  Jour.    Psy.,VG\. 

V,  20-38.     (Historical  resume  and  bibliography  good.) 
Patrick,  G.  T.  W.     Number  Forms.     Pop.   Sc.   Mo.,  Feb.,  1893. 
Phillips,  D.  E.     Genesis  of  Number  Forms.      Am.  Jour.  Psy., 

July,  1897,  Vol.  VIII,   506-527.     (Good.) 


CHAPTER  VII 

Imagination 

1.  Collect  instances  in  which  a  child's  dream  has 
created  a  lasting  fear.  I^e  sure  that  the  fear  did  not  exist 
Observa-  ])revious  to  the  dream.  Collect  instances 
tions.  where  the  dream  created  pleasure.  Are 
such  cases  likely  to  be  as  common  as  the  other?    Why? 

2.  Observe  in  some  one  child  whether  this  order  is 
followed  in  the  growth  of  imagination: 

(i)  Recalling  and   telling   some   experience  of  his 
own. 

(2)  Listening  to  stories  told  him. 

(3)  Inventing  new  stories  himself. 

3.  Collect  instances  of  the  personification  of  inani- 
mate objects.  Did  tin;  children  believe  the  object  to 
be  alive  or  not? 

4.  If  you  know  of  any  case  of  an  imagmary  play- 
mate, describe  it  full)-,  noting  especially  the  age  of 
the  child  when  it  began;  how  long  it  lasted;  sex  of 
child  and  of  playmate;  whether  father  or  mother  had 
such  a  playmate. 

5.  Collect  statistics  from  school  children  on  the  fol- 
lowing points.  Get  the  age,  sex  and  grade  of  each 
child  on  his  paper.  In  getting  such  data,  to  secure 
free  utterance,  it  is  a  good  plan  to  tell  the  children  not 
to  put  their  names  on  their  papers. 

(i)  If  you   could   be  to-day  just  what  you  want  to 

be,  what  would  you  choose?     Why? 
(2)  What  do  you  want  to  be  when  you  are  grown 
up?     Why? 

120 


IMAGINATION  12  1 

Various  sensations  leave  their  traces  on  the  baby's 
brain,  and  as  persons  and  objects  move  about  him,  he 
learns  by  degrees  to  connect  their  various 
aspects  with  each  other,  that  is,  he  learns  ^^*|naUon. 
to  perceive  objects  instead  of  merely  receiv- 
ing sensations.  Next,  after  he  perceives  objects  as 
wholes,  or  while  he  is  learning  so  to  perceive  them, 
comes  recognition  of  them,  and  finally  distinct  memory 
images  of  them  and  desires  for  them  when  they  are 
absent.  Thus  the  baby  arrives  at  a  consciousness, 
though  still  vague  and  imperfect,  of  his  past  as  well 
as  of  his  present.  He  is  no  longer  confined  to  a  now, 
but  looks  backward  to  a  then. 

As  his  memory  images  become  more  stable,  they 
also  become  freed  from  definite  time  and  place  associ- 
ations. His  experiences  with  chairs,  tables,  father  and 
mother,  and  so  on,  have  been  so  numerous  that  his 
image  of  a  chair  or  table,  is  not  of  his  use  of  it  at  some 
one  time  and  place,  but  of  it  in  an  indefinite  time 
and  place  setting.  He  inay  have  the  definite  setting, 
but  he  7ieed  not.  In  this  way,  the  memory  images 
become  more  flexible  and  subject  to  his  wjil,  and  pres- 
ently we  find  him  making  alterations,  picturing  himself 
as  doing  something  this  morning  that  he  has  not  done 
for  a  month;  making  little  plans  of  what  he  will  do 
after  dinner,  and  in  such  ways  showing  his  power  to 
manage  his  images.  Then  suddenly  he  becomes  con- 
scious of  his  power,  and  forthwith  launches  boldly  out 
into  a  riotous  sea  of  imaginings.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
he  becomes  swamped,  or  on  the  other  hand  he  mistakes 
his  buoyant  fancies  for  the  dry  land  of  facts,  but  by 
degrees  he  learns  to  control  them,  and  to  see  their  lim- 
itations. 


122 


THE    CHILD 


At   first,    however,    his    new   combinations   are   very 
inconspicuous,    and    more   or    less    accidental.       Perez 

thinks  that  thev  are  first  formed  spontane- 
Spontaneous  '  i-    u      i- 

new  com-  ously,  especially  in  sleep.  Some  slight  dis- 
binations.  turbance  of  the  circulation,  or  change  in 
the  brain,  may  lead  to  the  establishment  of  new  con- 
nections—connections which  cause  new,  grotesque,  or 
pleasing  mental  combinations.  I  think  we  may  safely 
say  that  the  growth  of  the  association  fibers  in  the 
first  months  of  life  would  lead  to  such  new  combina- 
tions, without  any  effort  of  will  on  the  child's  part. 
These  spontaneous  combinations  will  be  found,  though 
to  less  degree,  as  the  child  grows  older,  and  doubtless 
give  suggestions  for  the  voluntary  combinations  that 
the  child  begins  to  form  between  the  second  and  third 
years.  There  can  be  little  question  that  such  combina- 
tions do  occur  in  dreams,  and  that  they  seriously  affect 
the  waking  life  of  many  children.  Mr.  James  gives  a 
dream  of  his  little  girl  as  illustrative.  She  woke  with 
a  scream  saying  that  a  dog  had  bitten  her,  and  for 
months  afterward  she  had  spasms  of  terror  at  the  sight 
of  a  dog,  although  up  to  that  time  she  had  liked  them. 
I  myself  have  a  little  friend  who  woke  crying  that  an 
elephant  was  in  the  room  and  was  going  to  eat  her. 
Her  mother  said  that  for  weeks  she  would  not  go  into 
the  room  alone  even  in  the  daytime,  and  even  after  six 
months  she  would  not  sleep  there.  If  such  occur- 
rences are  at  all  common,  we  can  see  how  easily  a 
child  can  live  in  a  world  wholly  different  from  that 
known  to  us,  and  how,  if  his  images  in  sleeping  life 
are  vivid  enough,  he  may  confuse  them  with  reality. 
There  seems  to  be  little  that  one  can  do  with  such  an 
unfortunate  dream   except   as  far  as   possible  to  make 


IMAGINATION 


123 


the  child  realize  that  it  was  only  a  dream  and   nothing 

to  be  afraid  of. 

The  systematic  forming  of  new  combinations  by  the 

child  occurs  first  in   listening  to  stories,  but   this  does 

not    come    until    after    he   has    learned     to 

,,    ,.     ,  ,    ,  .  ,.,  ,     ,  ,  Systematic 

tell   little   stories  ot   his  own  lite — what  he     forming  of 

has    seen    on     his    walk,    what    he    did    at     ^^"^  com- 
,  TT       r  •    ■  ]      binations. 

grandma  s,    and    so    on.      He    lorms    vivid 

images  of  these  stories,  as   is  shown  by  his   insisting 

upon  the   same  words  and   facts    in    the  story   every 

time  they  are  told. 

Only  after  this  does  he  begin  to  invent  stories  of  his 
own,  but  once  started,  he  carries  his  story-telling  to 
great  lengths.  The  stories,  like  all  his  other  fancies, 
are  improbable  and  inconsistent  to  us,  but  not  so  to 
him,  with  his  narrow  experience.  There  is  nothing 
incredible  to  him  about  the  hole  in  a  stone  being  the 
abode  of  fairies  or  about  living  in  the  water  with  the 
fish,  and  so  he  both  accepts  and  invents  fairy  tales  and 
myths  with  equanimity.  As  his  experience  widens 
and  he  learns  more  of  the  world  about  him,  his  wild 
imaginings  give  way  to  others  that  are  more  in  agree- 
ment with  fact,  and  so  less  conspicuous. 

It  may  be  partly  true  also  that  a  child's  fancies  are 
so  unbridled  because  his  perceptions  are  indistinct,  and 
so  he  can  read  into  them  whatever  he  pleases  without 
seeing  any  discrepancy  with  what  is  before  him.  In 
this  connection  it  is  worth  noticing  that  the  same  child 
who  can  be  so  wildly  imaginative,  finds  great  difificulty 
in  framing  a  clear  image  from  a  description.  He  has 
not  the  power  of  concentration  necessary  for  this.  .fj^K. 

There   seems   to   be  at  times  a  real   illusion  in  these ^ 
fancies.     The  child  will  lose  himself  in  them  for  the 


124 


THE   CHILD 


iiionunt.  Thf  fancy  is  so  real  and  cli\ides  from  the 
object  itself  so  gradually  that  often  In-  can  not  say 
where  one  ends  and  the  other  begins.  He  always  starts 
with  some  actual  object  and  proceeds  to  adorn  it  with 
his  fancy,  usually  giving  it  tiualities  suggested  by  its 
likeness  to  other  things. 

As  persons  interest  children  most,  they  tend  to  per- 
sonify all  objects.  The  number  of  pretty  and  pathetic 
illustrations  of  this  is  infinite.  The  stupid 
ti"n''°^^^^'  1^'tters  of  the  alphabet  are  made  into  per- 
sons, and  the  child  talks  to  "dear  old  W," 
L  is  sitting  down,  and  F  and  '►!  are  facing  each  other 
and  talking. 

The  most  prolonged  case  of  such  personification  is 
given  by  Miss  M.  C.  Whiting.  Each  number  up  to  12 
had  a  distinct  personality  for  her,  and  the  various  com- 
binations of  them  in  arithmetic  made  the  subject  most 
fascinating.  She  began  this  at  the  age  of  eight,  and 
continued  it  for  four  years,  taking  it  for  granted 
that  other  people  thought  in  the  same  way.  The 
various  combinations  are  made  by  the  numbers  acting 
in  various  ways,  thus:  8  is  so  angry  that  she  puts 
thoughtless  5  into  13.  Here  he  stays  until  kind  g 
rescues  him  and  helps  him  into  14.  2  helps  6  and  forces 
him  into  12,  a  kind  of  prison.  8  finds  6  here,  and  puts 
liim  into  14,  which  is  pleasant  but  l)eneath  his  dignity. 
7  is  already  there  by  the  aid  of  2,  and  8  hurls  him 
into  15,  a  dungeon.  5  had  already  got  himself  here 
by  the  unintended  mo\-es  of  3,  but  he  persuades  4  to 
pity  him  and  put  him  into  20,  a  most  desirable  station; 
and  so  on  to  I2X  12. 

J<;an  Ingelow  tells  us  that  when  she  was  a  little  girl 
she  was  sure  that   stones  were   ali\e,  and  she  felt  very 


IMAGINATION 


125 


sorry  for  them  because  they  always  had  to  stay  in  one 
place.  When  she  went  walking  she  would  take  a 
little  basket,  fill  it  with  stones  and  leave  them  at  the 
farthest  point  of  the  walk,  sure  that  they  were  grateful 
to  her  for  the  new  view.  Another  little  girl  thought 
that  the  leaves  were  alive,  and  autumn  was  a  mournful 
time  to  her  because  the  leaves  all  had  to  die.  Moving 
things  are  likely  to  be  personified,  especially  if  they 
are  noisy.  Machinery,  engines  and  steamers  are  ter- 
rific personalities  to  the  little  child.  But  he-  also  per- 
sonifies his  moving  toys,  his  ball  and  his  hoop.  Even 
a  sliding  cushion  was  given  life  by  one  small  boy.  It 
seems  odd  to  us  that  children  should  think  of  such 
things  as  grozving,  but  a  goodly  number  of  them  do. 
Naturally  enough,  children  attribute  solidity  to  all 
objects  at  first,  and  so  we  find  them  trying  to  pick  up 
the  sunbeams.  One  little  girl  wants  to  wash  the  smoke 
and  get  it  nice  and  white;  and  another  wants  to  see  the 
wind.  When  the  wind  was  blowing  strongly  toward  a 
neighboring  town,  one  little  child  said  he  would  like 
to  go  too  because  there  must  be  so  much  wind  there. 

Along  with  this  personifying  of  all  objects  is  the  ten- 
dency to  look  upon  them  all  as  made  for  the  use  of  people 
or  even  of  the  child.  One  little  girl  thought  that  the 
flowers  opened  to  please  her,  and  that  the  sun  came  out 
to  light  her.  It  is  very  difficult  in  all  such  cases  to 
know  how  far  a  child  is  accepting  literally  the  figurative 
statements  of  other  people,  and  how  far  he  is  imagining. 

It  is  equally  hard  to  draw  the  line  between  imagina- 
tion and  reason.  Thus,  if  a  child  sees  a  certain  object, 
his  fancy  at  once  forms  pictures  of  how  the  object 
came  to  be  what  it  is.  For  example,  one  little  child, 
met  a  lame  tramp  on  his  walk  and  at  once  began  to 


f  t(3  the  child 

tell  his  mother  that  the  tramp  had  been  "riding  on 
a  big^high  horse,  and  the  horse  had  jumped  and  thrown 

him  off  and  hurt  his  leg."  Another  little 
Imagination  j-^.ii,,^^  j^;^^^,  tj-^.  bumblebee  industriously 
and  reason.  i  i  i  • 

buzzing  in  the  window,  and  told  his  mother 

that  it  was  asking  for  a  lump  of  sugar.  Then  he 
addressed  llu:  bumblebee  and  told  him  that  the  sugar 
woukl  give  him  cramps.  The  transition  from  fancy  to 
reason  is  clear  in  the  case  of  the  tramp.  The  picture  of 
the  horse  is  the  child's  explanation  of  how  it  might 
come  about  that  the  tramp  was  lame.  The  induction 
does  not  seem  to  be  different  in  nature  from  the 
working  hypothesis  of  the  scientist. 

It  is  also  often  difficult   to  distinguish   between  the 
playfulness   of   the    imagination   and    lying.      A   child 

will  sometimes  come  home  and  reel  off 
Imagination  ^^  stories  about  what  he  has  been  doing 
and  lying.  '-•  .    ,     ,  ,.     ,  7 

and  seeing,  which  have   little  or  no   truth 

in  them.  This  tendency  will  last  for  months  at  a 
time.  The  thing  one  should  look  for  in  such  a  case  is 
the  motive.  Does  the  child  /;//r;/c/ to  deceive  you  or 
is  he  just  pla>-ing  with  images,  and  asking  you  to  play 
too?  One  way  to  find  out  is  to  respond  to  his  story 
with  some  pretended  doings  of  your  own,  confessing 
at  the  end  that  it  was  only  play,  and  asking  him  if  his 
story  was  not  also.  If  in  some  way  like  this  he  is 
reminded  that  his  ideas  are  not  like  the  facts,  he  will 
usually  outgrow  the  tendency.  ()nl\'  the  intention  to 
deceive  is  dangerous,  and  this  we  shall  speak  of  shortly. 
Loneliness,  distance,  and  mystery  are  great  stimu- 
lants to  a  child's  fancy.  Probaljly  most  children  have 
fictitious  characters  with  whom  they  play  at  times,  but 
the  imaginary  playmate  reaches  its  fullest  development 


IMAGINATION 


127 


in  the    child   who  plays    alone.     It  is   not  uncommon 

to  find  that  such   a  child  has   created  for  himself  an 

invisible  companion  who  is  with  him  most 

of  the  time,  and  who  remains  in  existence  i™*sinary 
'  ,  playmates, 

for  two  or  three  years.     This   companion 

has  a  name  and  a  definite  appearance  and   is  a  source 

of  much  comfort,   as  well  as,  frequently,  the  alleged 

reason  for  much  misconduct.      "Bokman  made  me  do 

that,  mamma,"  is  the  reason  sometimes  given  by  one 

little  girl  that  I  know.     Or,  "Bokman   is  wearing  her 

blue  dress,  can't  I  wear  mine?"      It  is  frequently  the 

case  that  the  tendency  to  create  such  companions  is 

hereditary.     Usually  when   a  child  begins  school,  or 

gets  absorbed  in  outside  things,  the  companion  fades 

away,  but  I  know  of  one  case  in  which  it  has  persisted 

up  to  middle  life. 

The  distant  world,  the  world  beyond  the  hills,  or  at 
the  end  of  the  rainbow,  or  above  the  clouds,  is  the 
source  of  many  childish  wonderings  and 
imaginings.  I  remember  that  in  that  ^^^s^JJ!'®  *^*^ 
charming  story  "The  Golden  Age,"  there 
is  an  account  of  one  picture  in  a  book  that  was  a 
source  of  constant  questionings  by  the  children.  There 
was  a  hill  beyond  which  church  spires  could  be  seen, 
and  ships  were  sailing  around  a  bend  of  the  river  into 
the  city.  One  day  in  a  friend's  house  they  found  a 
book  with  pictures  of  the  town.  What  joy  was  theirs 
really  to  see  what  they  had  wondered  over  so  long! 

The  degree  to  which  these  fancies  may  be  carried, 
and  the  amount  of  reality  necessary  to  bolster  up  the 
imagination,  varies  greatly.  Sometimes  a  child  may 
be  urged  to  greater  flights  by  a  little  make-believe 
on  our  parts.  For  instance,  in  playing  store  with  a 
9 


128  THE   CHILD 

little   girl    of   five,    I    said  I    wanted  somt-  blue   ribbon. 

She  answered    that    they  were  out  of  it,  but  I  pointed 

under   a  box  cover    and    said,    "Why,   no, 
Vividness 

there  is  some."     The  box  cover  was  green. 

"No,"  she  said,  "that  ribbon  is  green.  "  I  persisted  that 
there  was  blue  ribbon  under  the  cover,  and  took  the 
cover  away,  pointing  to  the  brown  couch  beneath,  and 
saying,  "See,  there  is  blue  ribbon."  "No,"  she  said, 
"that  is  brown  ribbon,  don't  you  see  it  is  brown?"  But 
presently,  as  I  still  persisted,  she  accepted  my  view,  pre- 
tended there  was  blue  ribbon,  and  taking  it  up — a  purely 
imaginary  ribbon — brought  it  to  me.  The  relation  of 
invention  to  imagination  here  is  most  interesting. 

So  far  we  have  been   discussing  what   may  be  called 
fancy.     Chance  association  and  personal  feeling  control 

the  mind,  and  the  child  is  more  or  less  con- 
Invention.  .     ,  ,.         .  ,  .  , 

scious  or   the  unreality  ot   his   mental    rov- 

ings.  We  find  a  different  state  of  affairs,  however, 
when  we  turn  to  invention.  The  account  of  this  will  fol- 
low Baldwin.  Let  us  go  back,  for  the  beginning  of  the 
child's  inventions,  to  his  imitations,  and  study  the 
method  of  persistent  imitation.  In  repeating  a  move- 
ment again  and  again,  a  child  is  constantly  omitting 
some  movements,  putting  in  others,  and  so  learning  new 
ones.  Now,  just  in  proportion  as  a  child  gets  skill  in 
reproducing  the  copy  that  he  set  out  to  imitate,  his 
attention  can  play  about  the  movements  he  is  making 
and  introduce  untried  combinations,  which  result  ixi 
something  new  or  advantageous  to  himself.  These 
changes  maybe  accidental  at  first,  but  the  sense  of  mas- 
tery that  they  give  is  a  strong  incentive  to  trying  others, 
and  so  there  is  constant  experimenting,  modifying  of 
old  situations  and  stories,  and  intense  enjoyment  of  the 


IMAGINATION  j2Q 

results.  Baldwin  gives  as  illustrative  of  the  process  an 
invention  of  Helen's.  She  began  by  copying  with 
her  blocks  a  church  from  her  picture  book.  When  she 
had  it  partly  done,  she  saw  that  it  could  be  altered  a 
little  and  finished  as  an  animal,  which  she  forthwith 
did.  This  is  typical  of  the  inventive  process,  and  is  an 
important  step  in  the  child's  development,  because  it 
teaches  him  that  he  has  control  over  objects — that  he 
is  not  limited  to  the  mere  imitation,  but  can  make  a 
new  world  of  his  own.  From  the  teacher's  standpoint, 
the  close  connection  between  this  creation  and  imi- 
tation is  important  to  note.  The  most  imitative  child 
may  be  the  most  imaginative. 

When  a  child  has  made  such  an  invention,  the  next 
thing  is  to  show  it  to  an  admiring  world,  to  get  social 
approval,  and  this  also  is  typical  of  all  minds.  If 
others  will  not  accept  his  wonderful  creation,  if  they 
criticize  or  laugh  at  it,  he  is  forced  to  modify  his 
enthusiasm  of  it — to  change  it  so  that  it  will  meet  with 
general  approval  and  use.  The  possibility  of  using  his 
invention  in  his  relations  with  others  is  thus  a  child's 
final  test  of  his  creation,  and  a  spur  to  new  efforts. 
The  desire  to  have  control  of  the  situation,  or  to  escape 
unpleasant  surroundings,  doubtless  underlies  this. 

Many  so-called  lies  illustrate  the  same  point.  Bald- 
win gives  another  example  here.  Helen  was  bringing 
some   packages   to   him   from  the   hall  and 

became  tired  before  they  were  all  brought      iii"^eiition 

.^  fc.  and  lying, 

m.       She    brought    them    more    and    more 

slowly  and   finally   stopped  before  him  and  said,  "No 

more."     Now,  as  she  became  tired,  Baldwin   says,  the 

thought  of    her   delight    when    the   task   was   finished 

and  of  the  praise  she  would   receive  from  her  father, 


I30 


THE    CHILD 


became  more  and  more  prominent.  With  this  was  the 
consciousness  that  she  would  tell  hor  father  when  she 
was  through.  From  this  consciousness  it  was  a  short 
step  to  the  thought  that  by  telling  him  at  once  that 
there  were  no  more  she  would  be  praised  and  relieved. 
That  is,  simply  to  escape  from  an  unpleasant  situa- 
tion, she  invented  a  situation  which  would  give  her 
the  desired  results,  without  any  sense  of  wrongdoing. 
Many  of  the  first  lies  of  children,  where  they  are  not 
purely  imaginative,  are  of  this  sort,  and  should  be  care- 
fully dealt  with,  because  they  grow  into  deliberate  lying. 
They  usually  occur  like  this  one,  because  they  are  of 
use  to  a  child  in  some  way.  The  best  way  to  deal 
with  them  must  vary  according  to  the  disposition  of 
the  child.  He  must  in  one  way  or  another  learn  that 
social  disapproval  always  follows  such  an  act,  because 
if  people  generally  lied,  social  life  could  not  exist. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  he  has  done  any  kind  of  ' 
wrong,  the  treatment  of  him  should  be  such  as  to 
induce  repentance  instead  of  fear,  so  that  the  next 
time  he  does  wrong  he  will  not  be  tempted  to  lie  to 
escape  punishment.  Where  there  is  confidence  and 
wise  government,  the  lie  problem  will  not  be  so  press- 
ing a  one  as  where  there  is  fear  and  too  great  restric- 
tion. To  prevent  lies,  then,  there  should  be  cultivated 
most  carefully  in  a  child  the  courage  to  take  the  con- 
sequences of  his  acts,  and  the  confidence  that  he  will 
always  be  justly  treated  and  understood. 

Finally,  we  come  to  the  most  practical  use  of  imag- 
ination that  any  of  us  make — the  planning  of  our 
career.  About  five  thousand  children  have  been  ques- 
tioned as  to  what  they  would  like  to  do  when  they  are 
grown  up  and  what  part  they  would  like  to  take  in  the 


IMAGINATION 


MT 


life  about  them.  The  close  connection  between  imagi- 
nation and  imitation  is  seen  here.  The  occupations  are 
necessarily  chosen  from  the  lives  that  the  i^ga,i8  hopes 
children  know,  and  out  of  the  whole  list  andambi- 
suggested  the  boys  mention  two-thirds  to  ^°°^" 
three-quarters  of  the  entire  number.  As  one  girl  puts 
it,  "There  are  not  many  things  for  a  girl  to  be." 

The  following  table  shows  the  occupations  mentioned 
most  frequently.  Where  two  figures  are  given,  they 
show  the  variation  between  different  reports;  where 
but  one,  agreement  or  but  one  report.* 


Occupation 


Girls 


Teacher 

Dressmaker 

Milliner 

Music  teacher 

Musician 

Artist 

Housekeeper 

Nurse 

Servant  

"Wife  and  mother 

Missionary 

Factory  hand 

Bookkeeper 

Tj'pewriter 

Clerk  or  stenographer . . 

Trades  (Taylor's  estimate,  i4go  boys) — 

Engineer 

Carpenter  

Blacksmith 

Machinist 

Merchant,  business  man  or  storekeeper 

Farmer 

Minister 

Doctor 

Lawyer 

Sailor 

Rail  road  man 


♦The  table  is  based  on  the  figures  of  Taylor  and  Monroe,  with 
iome  data  from  Chandler  and  Darrah. 


132 


THE   CHILD 


This  tabic  represents  the  average  for  all  ages,  but 
we  find  certain  changes  in  choice  between  seven  and 
fifteen  that  should  be  noticed.  Thus  the  choice  of 
teaching  varies  from  41  per  cent  at  seven  years, 
and  58  per  cent  at  nine  years  to  20  per  cent  at 
eleven  years.  Milliner  and  dressmaker  choices  out- 
number those  of  teaching  at  thirteen  and  fourteen 
years  and  only  then,  pointing  to  an  increased  interest 
in  dress. 

With  boys,  trades  seem  to  be  the  most  popular 
between  seven  and  nine  and  clerkships  between  ten 
and  twelve.  The  choice  of  a  business  career  appears 
at  eight,  that  of  a  sailor's  life  at  nine,  and  both 
increase  slowly,  but  steadily. 

These  variations  in  the  choice  of  profession  at 
different  ages  are  shown  in  more  detail  in  Mr.  Jegi's 
table  of  two  thousand  eight  hundred  poor  German 
children.     The  table  is  given  in  per  cents. 


Boys 


Years 

8 

9 

10 

1 1 

12 

13 

14 

Total  No. 

Choosing 

Father's 

Profession 

Carpenter  . . 
Merchant  . . 
Bookkeeper 

Farmer 

Engineer . . . 
Machinist  .  . 

Clerk 

Fireman. .  . . 

Sailor 

Officer 

Soldier 

21% 

0 

13 
3 
2 

3 
9 
2 

3 
10 

26% 
ir 

ID 

12 
II 

4 
6 
8 
7 
9 
10 

22% 

16 

II 

9 

8 
2 

I 
iS 

9 
10 

8 

22% 
13 
15 
15 

9 

4 
10 

8 

4 

6 

9 

17% 

7 

5 

9 
20 

7 
13 

4 
12 

5 
8 

10% 
12 

15 
10 
10 

iS 
12 

2 

6 
10 

2 

6% 
15 
23 
18 
10 
23 
12 

4 
12 

8 
2 

113 

67 

3 

14 

14 

-4 

17 

6 

I 

2 

0 

IMAGINATION 


133 


Girls 


Years 


Clerk  

Teacher 

Dressmaker 

Housekeeper   . . .  . 
Music  teacher  .. .  . 

Milliner 

Bookkeeper    

Typewriter 


s 

9 

10 

II 

12 

13 

17% 

22% 

24% 

19% 

25% 

35% 

88 

91 

64 

63 

77 

33 

27 

qi 

3b 

57 

48 

63 

56 

34 

32 

32 

28 

22 

0 

3 

12 

12 

12 

27 

8 

7 

4 

10 

10 

8 

I 

0 

4 

12 

3 

7 

0 

2 

2 

8 

3 

7 

14 


16% 
32 

21 
14 
II 

9 
22 
II 


The  reasons  for  choice  may  be  given  as  follows: 


Girls 


Like  it 

Fitness  for  work 

Money 

Easy 

Philanthropy 

Parents'  or  relations'  occupation  pleasant  . 

Demand  for  this  work  

Pleasant 

Opportunity  for  travel 


As  Mr.  Monroe  gives  the  table  it  is: 


Girls 


Like  it 

Money 

Easy 

Philanthropy 

Parents'  or  relations'  occupation  pleasant 
Miscellaneous  or  no  answer 


Both  tables  agree  in  emphasizing  the  importance  of 
the  child's  liking  and  his  desire  to  earn  money  in 
deciding  his  choice.  Indeed,  the  desire  to  earn  money 
is  so  prominent  that  we  can  not  but  believe  that  our 


134 


THE   CHILD 


mercenary  age  is  influencing  our  children  far  too  much. 

It  seems  dreadful    that  as  many  children,   not  adults 

but  children,  should  feel  the  need  of  earning 

Themoney  nioney,  as  feel  free  to  follow  their  own 
motive.  -^ ' 

liking.      Indeed,    the   most   marked  feature 

of  all  those  observations  is  that  so  few  of  the  chil- 
dren go  beyond  the  range  of  the  commonplace  in 
their  choice  of  a  life  work.  The  shades  of  the  prison- 
house  have  already  closed  about  them.  They  do  not 
feel  free  and  conscious  that  the  world  is  theirs  for  the 
choosing.  Most  of  them  look  forward  to  a  life  of  hard 
work — household  drudgery  or  ditch  digging.  Are  they 
not  loaded  with  the  burdens  of  adult  life  too  soon? 

Money  is  the  strongest  motive  for  choice  at  every 
age  from  seven  up  to  fourteen,  when  the  adolescent 
asserts  himself  and  chooses  a  profession  because  he 
likes  it,  or  because  his  father  or  uncle  is  so  and  so. 

Mr.  Jegi's  figures  of  the  German  children,  however, 
show  that  most  of  them,  while  choosing  a  humble 
profession,  choose  it  because  they  like  it,  and  that  the 
money  motive  decreases  instead  of  increasing  with  age. 

The  desire  to  earn  a  living  appears   at   the   age  of 

seven,    and    this   motive,    growing  in  definiteness    and 

dek;rmining  the  occupation,  such  as  teach- 

°*^"  ing,\jecause  it  gives  good   pay,   increases 

until  it  makes  25  per  cent  of  the  choices 

at  the  age  of  twelve. 

There  is  also  a  growing  appreciation  of  the  disagree- 
able side  of  all  work,  and  of  the  demand  for  each  sort. 

Altruistic  motives  arc  not  prominent  until  the 
eleventh  year,  when  10  per  cent  of  the  choices  are 
determined  by  the  desire  to  help  support  the  family. 
At    twelve,    i)lans    to    help   the    poor,    to   convert   the 


IMAGINATION  I^^ 

heathen,  etc.,  appear,  and  rise  to  their  highest  point 
at  fourteen. 

In  observations   upon   four   hundred    and    fifty  chil- 
dren from  kindergarten  through  eighth  grade,  Misses 
Sheldon   and  Hamburgher  found  a  marked 
difference    between   the    character   of   the    Present  and 

future 

wish  for  the  present,  and  for  the  future  desires, 
when  they  were  grown  up.  Contrary  to 
what  we  should  expect,  i6  per  cent  chose  the  improb- 
able for  the  present,  but  only  one-eightieth  of  one  per 
cent  chose  it  for  the  future.  The  contrast  is  very 
funny  in  some  cases.  Thus  one  child,  if  she  could  have 
her  wish,  would  be  a  rose  in  a  garden  to-day;  but  when 
grown,  a  teacher;  another  would  be  a  bird  now,  but  a 
dressmaker  when  grown;  one  boy  of  ten  would  be  (of 
all  things!)  an  angel  now,  but  a  doctor  by-and-by. 

It  was  also  quite  noticeable  that  when  asked  what 
they  would  choose  for  themselves  and  for  another,  they 
chose  the  more  probable  thing  for  self  and  let  their 
fancy  free  on  the  other— bed-room  slippers  for  self,  and 
a  diamond  ring  for  the  mother.  Or  is  it  possible  that  to 
the  child  the  two  things  are  on  the  same  plane  of  values? 
Why  should  a  child  choose  the  improbable  for 
to-day,  and  become  so  matter-of-fact  over  the  future? 
Is  it  because  the  futility  of  to-day's  choice  appeals  to 
him  so  that  he  lets  his  fancy  roam?  It  would  be  worth 
while  to  get  returns  from  more  children  to  see  whether 
this  difference  is  constant,  and  whether  it  is  more 
marked  with  the  older  children  than  with  the  younger. 
The  character  of  the  hopes  which  control  childish  acts 
is  seen  from  another  standpoint  in  an  inquiry  into  chil- 
■dren's  motives  for  planting  seeds.  Among  the  boys, 
materialistic   purposes   increased   from  56  per   cent  ai 


J  -55  THE   CHILD 

ci<,^ht  to  75  per  cent  at  fourteen,  aiul  in  the  f^irls  from 

47  per  cent  at  eii^dit  to  57  per  cent  at  fourteen.    Between 

r,  .^  .■  ^  ei^ht  and  fourteen,  the  esthetic  idea  de- 
Esthetic  and        » 

material  creased  among  the  boys  from  50  per  cent 
ideas.  ^^  28  per  cent   and   among  the  girls  from 

54  per  cent  to  44  per  cent.  Altruistic  motives  fluctuate 
in  the  boys,  from  10  per  cent  at  eight,  and  25  per 
cent  at  twelve,  to  15  per  cent  at  fourteen.  In  the  girls, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  increase  steadily,  from  18  per 
cent  at  eight  to  60  per  cent  at  fourteen. 

Considering  the  ideal  person  whom  the  child  would 
be,  we  find  that  with  little  children  his  traits  are  bor- 
rowed chiefly  from  father,  mother  or  friend, 
and  very  seldom  from  literature  or  history; 
while  with  sixteen-year-old  boys  and  girls, 
historical  characters  lead,  followed  by  those  from  liter- 
ature, and  a  very  few  from  among  friends  or  parents. 
Washington  and  Lincoln  are  the  heroes  of  both  boys 
and  girls,  and  the  girls' ideals  as  a  rule  emphasize  quali- 
ties essentially  masculine. 

The  following  table  shows  the  most  common  ideal  at- 
tributes and  their  influence  at  different  ages,  in  per  cents. 


The  child's 
ideal. 


Goodness 

Goodness  to  self  or  class 

Truth  and  honesty   

Appearance 

Striking  quality 

Feminine  accomplishments  

Intellectual  power 

Bravery  and  adventurous  qualities 

Discoverer  of  invention 

Patriotism  

Leadership 

Wealth 


7  YEj\RS 


255 

27 

4 

3 
12 
12 

3 

5 

2 

o 

4 
10 


12  Years 


23% 

4 

9 

3 

I 

I 
10 

19 
I 
6 

13 
o 


15  Years 


22% 
o 
10 

4 

o 

o 

12 

13 

o 

10 

18 

2 


IMAGINATION 


137 


Notice  how  the  idea  of  a  class  goodness  and  the  love 
of  showy  or  striking  qualities  disappear  in  the  older 
children.  On  the  other  hand  the  admiration  of  truth 
and  honesty  has  far  too  small  a  percentage  throughout. 

The  more  general  question  of  what  children  would 
choose  to  have  for  self  and  others,  brought  out  this 
result:* 

Others 


Concrete  things 
Knowledge  .... 

Health 

Companionship 

Happiness 

Virtue 


7o|% 
2 

25 

3i 

41 


With  age  there  was  a  slight  increase  in  the  choice  of 
abstract  qualities. 

Now  is  it  not  a  pity,  that  children  and  young  people 

should  be  on  the  whole  so   prosy  and   confined  to  real 

life  as  these  children  are?    We  hear  a  great  „         . 

o  use  and 

deal  about  the  abuse  of  imagination,  the  abuse  of 
danger  of  day-dreams  and  castles  in  Spain,  imaei°a*ion. 
and  the  moral  obliquity  involved  in  presenting  fairy 
tales  and  myths  to  children.  There  is,  of  course,  a  real 
danger  her£,  lest  in  playing  with  ideas,  a  child  forget 
realities,  but  in  view  of  this  collection  of  ideals  bor- 
rowed so  directly  from  the  everyday  life  of  thousands 
of  children,  the  danger  of  our  becoming  a  nation  of 
dreamers  does  not  seem  to  be  nearly  as  imminent  as 
that  of  our  becoming  a  nation  of  money  lovers  and 
materialists,   satisfied  with    present  conditions.      Will 

*Misses  Mary  L.  Sheldon  and  Rae  Hamburgher's  unpublished 
data  from  four  hundred  and  fifty  children  in  the  Chicago  schools. 
The  children  were  all  from  the  "poorer  districts." 


I   -.g  THE   CHILD 

children  with  such  ideals  ever  become  creators?  Will 
they  turn  out  to  be  artists,  poets,  inventors,  or  even 
signal  successes  in  the  conduct  of  any  large  enterprise? 
Hardly. 

Instead  of  abusing  the  imagination  by  exercising  it 
too  much  on  useless  things,  we  are  abusing  it  by  not 
ilmploying  it  to  raise  and  elevate  our  lives  from  year 
to  year.  There  is  no  stronger  power  for  good  than  a 
vivid  and  noble  ideal.  It  is  the  air  and  water  for  the 
beautiful  character  that  grows  from  the  soil  of  prosaic 
surroundings.  Even  putting  the  question  on  practical 
grounds,  no  business  can  be  successfully  conducted 
unless  the  man  at  the  head  can  imagine  clearly  the 
consequences  of  this  or  that  move.  He  must  be  able 
to  picture  how  his  customers  will  like  this  new  fabric; 
how  he  can  best  introduce  it,  and  so  on.  Imagination, 
in  short,  is  the  pattern  of  the  web  of  life.  It  is  the 
shaping  force  without  which  the  universe  would  be  a 
chaos.  We  should  say  then,  that  abuse  of  the  iniag- 
ination  is  possible  only  when  images  do  not  finally  turn 
back  into  our  life  and  change  it  in  some  way.  With 
this  one  limitation,  w^e  can  not  encourage  the  free  use 
of  images  too  much. 

We  have  already  seen  that  imagination  is  based  upon 

memory  images.     In  proportion  as  those  are  clear  and 

distinct,  will  the  material  of  imagination  be 

Trainingof  ^    maniiiulate.    There  is,  however,  no 

imagination.  -^  '  •    ,         , 

reason  for  using  this  material  and  so  settmg 

imagination  to  work,  unless  a  child's  curiosity  is  roused 

by  something  that  he  does  not  understand.     When  he 

asks    himself  a  question   and   sets   about   finding    the 

answer,  imagination   begins   to  work,   and   it  may  end 

in    an   invention   like   the   telephone;  a  theory  like  the 


IMAGINATION 


139 


REFERENCES 


nebular  hypothesis,  or  a  picture  like  the  Sistine 
Madonna.  The  necessary  thing  in  all  cases  is  the 
arousing  of  a  keen  curiosity  or  interest,  which  is  per- 
manent enough  to  keep  the  questioner  at  it  until  he 
has  an  answer.  To  cultivate  the  imagination,  there- 
fore, cultivate  far-reaching  enthusiasms  and  interests. 

V  ^T 

Barnes,  Earl.     Childish  Ideals.     N.   W.  Mo.,  Oct.,  i8q8,  91-93.         ^    -- 
Binet,    A.      Mental    Imager^'.      Fortnightly   Rev.,   July,    1892,     *^  3 

95-104.     (Summary  of  Galton;  popular  account  of  images.) 
Bryan,  W.  L.     Eye  and  Ear  Mindedness.     Proc.  hitern.  Cong. 

Ed.,  1893. 
Burnham,  W.    Individual  Differences  in  Imagination  of  Children, 

Ped.  Sein.,  1892,  204-225. 
Canton,  Wm.     Invisible  Playmate.     Chicago.     Stone,  $1.00. 
Chalmers,  Lillian  H.     Studies  in  Imagination.     Ped.  Sem.,  1900, 

111-123.     (Suggestive.) 
Chamberlain,  A.  F.     The  Child:  A   Study  in  the  Evolution  of 

Man.     83-86,  324-327.     L.     Scott,  $1.50. 
Chandler,  K.   A.    Children's  Purposes.     C.    S.  M.,   1897-98,    136- 

139- 
Compayre,   G.      Intellectual  and  Moral  Development  of  the 

Child.     Chapter  on  Imagination.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Darrah,  E.  M.     Study  of  Children's  Ideals.     Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  1898, 

88-98,  Vol.  LIII.     (Good.) 
Galton,    Francis.     Inquiry  into  Hutnan  Faculties.     Section  on 

Images.     L.     Macmillan,  $4.00. 
Hall,  G.  S.     Children's  Lies.     Ped.  Sem.,  1891,  211-228. 
Hursh,  S.  B.     Children's  Hopes.     C.  S.  M.,  1895-6,  256-259. 
Jastrow,  J.     Eye  Mindedness  and   Ear  Mindedness,      Pop.    Sc. 

Mo.,  Vol,  XXXII,  597. 
Jegi,  J.  I.     Children's  Ambitions.      Trans.  III.  Soc.  C.  S.,  1899, 

121-144, 
Lay,  W.     Mental  Imagery     Psy.  Rev.  Monograph  Supplement, 

No.  7.     (Discussion  of  imagery  of  adults.) 
Lewis,    H.    K.       The    Child:    His    Spiritual    Nature.      38-42. 

Inventions.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $2.00. 


j^Q  THE   CHILD 

Monroe,  W.  S.     VocatioiiiJ  Interests.      Education,  Vol.  XVIII, 

259-264. 
Perez,  B.     First  Three  Years  of  Childhood.     147-157.    Syracuse. 

Burdeen,  §1,50. 
Preyer,  W.     Development  of  the  Intellect.     See  Index.     N.  Y. 

Appleton,  $1.50. 
Secor,  N.  B.     Visual  Reading.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,\o\.  XI,  225-236. 
Sully,  James.     Studies  of  Childhood.    Chapter  on  Imagination. 

N.Y.     Appleton,  $2.50. 
Taylor,  J.  P.     Preliminary  Study  of  Children's  Hopes.     Annual 

Kept,  of  Supt.  of  Ed.  of  N.   K,  1895-6,  992-1012. 
Taylor,  J.  P.     Practical  Aspects  of  Interest.     Ped.  Son.,  V,  497. 
Thurber,  C.  H.      What  Children  Want  to  Do  When  They   Are 

Men  and  Women.     Proc.   N.  E.  A.,  1896,  882-887.     (Sum- 
mary of  Taylor. ) 
Tracy,  F.  Psychology  of  Childhood,  72-75-   Imagination.  Boston, 

Heath,  $0.90. 
Vostrovsky,  Clara.      Imaginary  Companions.     Barnes's  Studies 

in  Ed.,  98-101. 
Whiting,  M.  C.     Individuality  of  Numbers.     Ped.  Sem.,  1892. 
Willard,  Hattie  M.     Children's  Ambitions.     Barnes's  Studies  in 

Ed.,  243-253- 
Wiltse,  Sara  E.      INIental    Imagery  of  Boys.     Am.  Jour.  Psy., 

Vol.  Ill,  144-148-     (Suggestive.) 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Conception  and  Reasoning 

1.  Notice: 

(i)  When    the     baby    first    connects    sensations;    e.g., 
the  milk  with  the  bottle. 

(2)  When    he    first   compares   objects;         uoul^^' 

e.g.,  one  face  with  another. 

(3)  When    he    first    connects    a    present    with    an 

absent  object;  e.g.,  the  dress  with  the 
absent  mother. 

(4)  When  he  forms  a  sequence;  e.g.,  the  sight  of 

his  cloak  suggests  going  outdoors. 

(5)  When  he  first  adapts  means  to  ends;  e.g.,  pulls 

the  tablecloth  to  bring  something  within 
reach. 

(6)  When  he  first  asks  a  question.     How  old  is  he? 

What  is  it?  Does  he  follow  it  with  others? 
How  long  is  it  before  questioning  becomes 
common? 

2.  Question  children   from  three  to  eight  years  old 
as  follows: 

(i)  W'hat   is   the    length   of  an   hour,   day,  week, 

month,  and  year? 
(2)  See  whether  they  know  how  much  longer  the 

day  is  than  the  hour,  the  week  than  the  day, 

etc. 
(3  )   How   much  do  they  think   that  they  can  do 

in  an  hour? 

141 


142 


THE   CHILD 


(4)  At  what  af,u'  did  they  Icani  to  tell  time? 

(5)  At  what  age  do  they  care  to  know  the  day  of 

the  month,  the  names  of  the  months,  etc.? 
3.  Ask  school  children  to  tell  you  what  the  things 
are  that  are  named  in  Dr.  Hall's  list  in  the  chapter  on 
Perception,  or  in  a  similar  list.  These  descriptions 
will  show  the  imperfections  in  the  children's  sense 
experiences  and  the  consequent  imperfections  in  their 
concepts. 

The  nature  of  reasoning  has  been  a  subject  which  in 

the   past   has  been   hotly  disputed.      It   has  been  con- 

T^  „-.i«^^-„t  sidered  the  mark  of  man's  divinity,  a  fac- 
Development 

ofreasoning  ulty  implanted  in  him  by  the  Creator,  the 
power.  special   power  of  the  soul   or  logos.     Man, 

it  was  considered,  has  many  things  in  common  with 
animals,  but  his  reason  is  the  mark  which  puts  him 
in  a  class  by  himself.  It  does  not  exist  even  in  germ 
in  the  brute  creation,  while,  when  we  reach  man,  we 
find  it  full-grown  even  in  the  child,  as  is  also  the  moral 
sense.  A  child  can  therefore  be  held  accountable  even 
as  a  grown  person  is.  In  reaction  against  this  evi- 
dently false  theory,  we  find  it  assumed,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  a  child  can  not  reason  at  all  until  he  comes 
to  comparative  maturity — in  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth 
year  at  least. 

\Vith  the  cU;\e]opment  of  genetic  psychology,  how- 
ever, this  has  all  been  changed.  It  is  accepted  now 
as  an  unquestionable  fact  that  the  mental  life  is  a 
gradual  and  unbroken  growth  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave,  as  much  as  is  the  growth  of  the  body.  The 
infant  mind  must  contain  in  the  germ  the  possibilities 
of  the  highest  reasoning.    True,  it  needs  the  sunlight, 


CONCEPTION   AND    REASONING 


143 


air,  and  water  of  favorable  surroundings  to  develop  it, 
as  any  germ  does,  but  it  is  waiting  to  be  developed, 
except  in  the  few  unfortunates  who  are  born  with  the 
possibility  of  only  a  slight  development. 

Fruitful  as  this  conception  of  regular  growth  has 
been  in  the  other  di\-isions  of  Child-Study,  it  has  as  yet 
been  little  used  in  the  study  of  children's  reasonings. 
Other  traits  are  more  characteristically  childlike  per- 
haps, and  perhaps  even  yet  the  traditional  idea  of 
reason  still  holds  an  unconscious  sway  over  us.  How- 
ever this  is,  it  is  certain  that  but  little  material  is  avail- 
able on  children's  conceptions  and  reasonings. 

By  imagination  the  child  is  freed  to  a  large  extent 
from  time  and  place  limitations  in  his  combinations  of 
ideas,  and  so  can   go   on   to   combinations 

not  duplicated    in  his  own  experience.      In    Conceptions 
^^  1^  and  images, 

conception  he  finally  goes  beyond  the  indi- 
vidual in  so  far  as  he  can  frame  an  idea  which  applies 
equally  to  all  individuals  with  certain  similarities.  In 
psychological  terms,  in  conception  for  the  first  time  we 
deal  with  universals  or  generals,  while  in  perception, 
memory,  and  imagination  we  deal  with  particulars.  In 
conception,  the  image  in  the  mind  is  but  a  symbol  for 
a  large  number  of  individual  objects  or  ideas,  much 
as,  on  a  lower  plane,  the  sensation  in  perception  sym- 
bolizes all  the  other  possible  sensations  from  the 
object.  When  we  think,  for  instance,  of  "tables,"  the 
idea  that  comes  to  our  minds  stands  for  round,  square, 
oblong,  four-legged,  three-legged,  and  no-legged 
tables — all  kinds  of  tables  of  all  sizes,  shapes  and 
materials — the  only  common  quality  for  them  all 
being,  perhaps,  that  they  have  flat  tops  and  are  used 
to  put  things  on. 
10 


144 


THE    CHILD 


But,  to  turn  it  about,  it  is  c'\i{lcnt  that  such  a  class 
idea  or  concept  is  derived  in  the  first  place  from  sense 
experiences.  Through  our  comparisons  of  percep- 
tions or  of  images — which  are  deri\ed  from  perceptions 
— we  select  the  common  qualities  and  combine  them 
into  a  whole  which  can  then  stand  for  the  class. 
Sometimes  we  select  one  object  as  a  type,  but  even  then 
we  attend  only  to  those  {|ualities  in  it  which  all  the 
other  members  of  its  class  also  have.  It  is  but  a  sym- 
bol. 

In  forming  a  concept,  then,  certain  steps  are  neces- 
sary: (i)  perceptions  or  images  of  many  objects;  (2) 
comparison  of  these  with  each  other;  (3)  selection  of 
their  common  qualities;  and  (4)  combination  of  these 
qualities  into  the  class  idea. 

This  is  the  case  when  the  child's  mind  is  sufficiently 
developed  so  that  he  can  compare  two  objects  or  ideas; 
but  even  before  then  there  is  a  kind  of  consciousness 
of  classes  which  does  duty  for  a  concept  and  is  very 
closely  connected  with  organic  memory  and  habit. 
We  will  begin,  accordingly,  at  this  point,  and  then 
see  when  comparison  first  appears,  and  when  a  clear 
class  idea  or  concept. 

In  discussing  perception,  it  was  proved  that  by  the 

third  week  the  sight  of  the  breast  called  out  movements 

■m-nc* „^^  toward  it  for  nursing,  and  that  from  the 
First  con-  "' 

sciousness  of  third  month  on,  recognition  of  objects  in- 
ciassei.  creased   very   rapidly.     It   was   noted    that 

this  was  to  a  large  extent  due  to  organic  memory,  and 
not  to  the  presence  of  memory  images.  At  this  stage, 
therefore,  a  baby  can  not  compare  a  present  with  a 
past  experience,  and  only  with  difficulty  two  present 
ones. 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  I  IC 

This  first  rccoj^nition  goes  into  few  details.  Some 
strong  impression  appeals  to  the  baby's  senses,  and 
any  object  that  gives  the  same  impression  calls  out  the 
same  reaction.  Prcyer's  son  showed  a  strong  liking 
for  white  bottles  of  any  sort,  like  his  milk-bottle. 
Babies  at  first  usually  treat  all  men  as  they  do  their 
father,  unless  there  is  some  striking  peculiarity.  If 
the  mother  remains  much  with  the  child,  she  is  kept  in 
a  class  by  herself,  but  otherwise  it  is  not  at  all  uncom- 
mon for  the  baby  to  act  toward  all  women  as  he  does 
toward  his  mother. 

In  such  cases,  there  is  a  recognition  by  means  of 
organic  memory  of  certain  prominent  characteristics, 
and  there  is  a  responsive  movement  of  some  sort.  The 
first  concept,  is  thus,  according  to  Baldwin,  a  habitual 
response  to  a  certain  stimulus. 

We  may  say  confidently  that  the  possibility  of 
comparison  is  not  present  at  birth,  for  the  various 
brain  centers  have  then  no  fibers  connect- 
ing them.  During  the  first  nine  months,  compaSons. 
however,  the  brain  increases  more  in  size 
and  in  connections  between  its  parts  than  at  any  other 
period  of  life,  so  that  we  may  expect  to  find  compar- 
ison by  the  ninth  month,  and  in  all  probability  consid- 
erably earlier. 

When  we  speak  of  comparison,  we  simply  mean 
noting  the  relationships  between  two  objects  or  ideas. 
The  two  things  must  both  be  included  in  one  mental 
act.  Even  if  two  objects  are  compared,  then,  it  is 
evident  that  there  must  be  at  least  enough  memory  to 
remember  the  first  object  while  examining  the  second. 
Miss  Shinn  records  the  first  memory  and  the  first  com- 
parison at  the  same  time,  in  the  beginning  of  the  third 


146 


THE    CHILD 


month,  whin  her  niece  studied  her  and  her  mother 
alternately,  for  some  time,  turning  her  head  from  one 
to  the  other  and  examining  them  both  intently. 

Perez  gives  what  is  clearly  a  case  of  comparison, 
although  he  does  not  seem  to  be  sure  of  it,  in  describ- 
ing an  eight  months'  old  boy's  experiences  with  two 
cats.  The  boy  was  playing  with  one  cat  when  another 
cat  of  the  same  size  and  color  entered  the  room.  Sud- 
denly the  child  caught  sight  of  it  and  apparently  could 
hardly  believe  his  eyes.  He  stared  at  it  and  then  at 
the  first  cat,  his  body  tense  with  attention  and  aston- 
ishment. He  examined  the  two  until  he  became  satis- 
fied that  they  really  were  two  different  things,  though 
so  much  alike. 

It  seems  probable  from  our  knowledge  of  the  growth 
of  brain  fibers  and  of  the  rise  of  memory  images,  that 
comparison  begins  in  a  feeble  way  in  the  third  month. 
As  soon  as  a  child  begins  to  speak,  we  have  certain 
and  numerous  evidences  of  the  similarities  that  he  is 
constantly  seeing  between  objects.  All  white  animals 
of  a  certain  size  are  "lammies";  all  black  ones, 
"doggies."  The  hairless  doll  is  "Grandpa."  i\Ien 
without  beards  are  boys  even  to  the  four-year-old,  and 
the  ten-cent  piece  is  a  baby  dollar. 

We  sec  comparison  clearly  when  Mrs.  Hall's  child, 
at  eight  months,  recognizes  the  real  dog  from  the 
image  on  the  mantel;  when  Preyer's  boy,  at  about  one 
year,  compares  his  father's  face  with  its  reflection  in 
the  mirror;  and  in  the  case  cited  by  Ribot,  of  the  child 
who  compared  the  ticking  of  the  watch  with  that  of  the 
clock.  We  see  here,  as  in  the  first  class-conscious- 
ness, that  only  certain  very  obxious  or  interesting  qual- 
ities strike  the  child's   mind,  and    so  his  classification 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING 


147 


by  those  qualilics  seems  to  us  very  funny  or  very 
pretty.  We  should  atlcl,  however,  that  where  there  is  a 
strong  interest,  the  comparisons  of  a  four-year-old  child 
will  average  favorably  with  those  of  an  uninterested 
adult. 

We  have  no  data  to  show  when  a  child  first  compares 
two  ideas  with  each  other. 

We  may  best  describe  the  baby's  condition  when 
comparison  has  fairly  begun  by  summarizing  Baldwin's 
account  of  the  origin  of  the  concept. 

The  child  begins  with  an  indefinite  and  vague  whole, 
which  is  both  particular  and  general,  percept  and  con- 
cept. Take  for  instance  the  pet  kitten,  the 
child's  first  experience  with  cats.  The  concept.  ^ 
individual  and  the  class  are  to  him  the 
same  at  this  point.  He  knows  no  class  but  the  indi- 
vidual. But  he  meets  now  a  big  cat  of  a  new  color. 
He  may  not  identify  it  with  the  first  cat  at  all,  but  the 
chances  are  that  he  will.  Percept  and  concept  now 
begin  to  divide — the  two  individuals  are  alike  in  some 
ways,  so  that  both  are  called  cats,  and  different  in 
others,  so  that  one  is  called  Tiger  and  one  Tom.  Tiger 
scratches,  Tom  does  not;  but  both  are  soft  and  warm 
and  both  purr.  So  his  idea  of  a  cat  is  a  purring,  warm, 
soft  animal,  that  may  or  may  not  scratch.  The  next 
cat  he  sees  may  lick  his  fingers,  and  so,  with  every 
successive  experience  some  qualities  may  be  left  out 
and  others  put  in  only  as  possibilities,  until  there  is 
but  a  small  nucleus  of  qualities  belonging  to  all  cats, 
and  a  large  fringe  of  other  characteristics  that  may 
belong  to  any  particular  Tabby  or  Tom. 

The  amazing  thing  is  that  the  baby  learns  so  quickly 
to  distinguish  individuals  from  each  other,  and  yet,  at 


>j   ,g  THE   CHILD 

the  same  time,  to  put  them  together  into  one  chiSs,  as 
things  to  eat,  thiiij^^s  to  drink,  rolling;  thin,L,^s,  and  so 
on.  Experience  is  his  only  teacher  here,  but  experi- 
I'uce  reinforced  by  i)leasure  and  pain  and  by  the 
natural  impulses  and  instincts  of  the  child  is  very 
powerful. 

It  is  imi)ortant  to  [hv.  baby's  safety  and  comfort 
that  he  should  learn  thus  si)eedily  to  (listin<,niish  and 
associate.  Take,  for  instance,  the  cats  af,rain.  He 
likes  the  soft  fur  and  warmth,  but  he  gets  scratched 
by  Tiger.  Now  for  a  long  time  he  may  be  afraid  that 
all  cats  scratch,  but  if  he  learns  that  only  Tiger 
scratches  and  Tom  and  Tabby  do  not,  he  gets  the 
pleasure  of  playing  with  thc-m  and  avoichs  thi:  pain  of 
Tiger's  claws.  That  is,  to  state  it  generally  again,  a 
baby  that  learns  most  readily  the  qualities  peculiar 
only  to  an  individual  and  those  common  to  a  class,  is 
the  baby  that  is  the  most  independent  and  the  surest 
of  safety. 

That  the  child's  first  concepts  are  incomplete  is  a 

foregone  conclusion  from  what  we  have  already  said. 

,  /      His  experiences  with   objects  are  necessa- 
Incomplete-  i  ,,   r  ,       ■• 

ness  of cLiids  ril>'  limited;    he  can  not   tell  from   the  tew 

concepts.  people  or  houses  or  rivers  that  he  has  seen, 
which  of  their  qualities  are  peculiar  to  them  and  which 
belong  to  all  objects  of  their  kind.  When  we  add  to 
this  his  imperfect  observation  and  his  small  power  of 
voluntary  attention,  we  can  see  that  correct  concepts 
will  be  a  late  mental  product.  A  child  may  have  as 
wild  an  imagination  as  an  adult,  but  an  imagination 
that  attends  to  universal  and  real  ipialities,  as  concep- 
tion does,  is  obtained  only  by  long  experience  and 
training. 


CONCEPTION   AND    REASONING 


149 


The  child's  concepts  are  therefore  too  general  in 
some  cases  and  too  particular  in  others.  He  does  not 
put  into  the  concept  all  the  qualities  that  it  ought  to 
have,  as  in  thinking  that  all  white  things  are  milk; 
or  he  puts  in  wrong  ones,  as  in  thinking  that  all 
rivers  are  dirty;  or  he  combines  both  errors,  as  in 
thinking  that  blackness  marks  off  dogs  from  sheep. 

We  can,  by  a  little  adroit  questioning  of  children, 
see  all  these  errors  in  their  concepts  of  common 
classes  of  objects,  such  as  tables  and  chairs  and  people, 
while  with  the  still  more  abstract  concepts,  such  as 
number,  distance,  growth,  time,  and  the  self,  the 
errors  are  all  intensified. 

The  baby's  ideas  of  number  are  vague  in  the  extreme; 
number  in  the  abstract  does  not,  of  course,  exist  for 
him.  He  knows  only  many  things  or  this 
one  particular  thing.  At  eighteen  months  number °^ 
Ribot  says  a  child  can  distinguish  concepts 
of  one,  two,  and  several.  Dewey  also  notes  that  three 
children  observed  by  him,  varying  in  age  from  sixteen 
to  twenty-eight  months,  paired  off  objects.  Two  could 
be  counted  but  not  three.  At  three  years,  Ribot  says, 
a  child  can  distinguish  i,  2,  and  4  or  2X2.  The  baby's 
first  vague  impressions  of  quantity  and  mass  are  made 
more  distinct  through  his  own  movements  in  touching 
and  handling  objects,  and  he  is  also  aided  by  the  regu- 
lar alternations  and  rhythms  in  his  experiences  and  in 
his  bodily  reactions.  We  know  that  in  his  first  count- 
ing a  little  child  is  very  likely  to  touch  or  tap  as  he 
counts  and  that  he  likes  to  group  the  objects  or 
words  in  counting  by  pronounced  accents.  He  enjoys 
singing  the  multiplication  tables,  for  instance.  We 
must  also  distinguish,   with   the   little  child,  between 


I50 


THE  CHILD 


rcpcatinp^  number  names,  and  real  counting.  A  child 
will  often  apparently  count  to  a  high  number,  but 
when  asked  to  show  ten  objects  or  twenty  objects,  he 
will  be  at  a  loss.  Not  infrequently  a  child  takes  the 
name  of  the  number  for  the  name  of  the  object.  If, 
for  instance,  the  third  object  happens  to  be  a  willow 
rocker,  he  may  think  it  a  "three." 

When  a  child  has  really  learned  to  count,  he  delights 
in  it,  both  counting  the  objects  about  him,  and  merely 
counting,  without  reference  to  particular  objects.  The 
boards  in  the  sidewalk,  the  blades  of  grass,  the  stones 
in  the  road,  are  all  enumerated,  when  he  is  not  occu- 
pied in  numbering  up  to  hundreds  of  thousands,  or  to 
millions  or  billions. 

At  first,  the  child's  idea  of  growth  is  simply  that  of 
increase    in    si/.e.       It   does    not    include    the    idea  of 

increasing  complexity  of  the  parts.  To  the 
^rowth^°^       childish  mind,  a  stone  may  grow  as  readily 

as  a  child.  Mr.  Sully  has  some  speculations 
on  childish  ideas  of  growth  which  are  interesting 
though,  perhaps,  not  so  general  in  their  application  as 
he  believes.  A  child,  he  says,  can  not  believe  that 
things  come  from  nothing  or  go  to  nothing;  hence  the 
natural  idea  of  a  cycle,  babies  growing  to  men,  and 
men  growing  back  to  babies.  Babies,  a  child  is  told, 
come  from  various  places,  heaven  among  others.  He 
knows  that  they  get  larger  by  eating  and  drinking,  and 
that  after  a  time  they  stop  growing  and  begin  to  shrink. 
Old  i)eople  are  frequently  small,  they  are  spoken  of 
as  childish,  and  when  they  die  they  are  carried  to 
heaven  by  the  angels,  hence  they  must  grow  still 
smaller  after  they  die.  I  myself  have  never  come 
across  this   idea,    and   I  doubt  whether  it  is  a  common 


CONCEPTION  AND  REASONING  I  CI 

one.  Most  children  are  satisfied  as  to  the  origin  of  an 
object  by  being  told  where  it  comes  from,  without 
questioning  further  the  source  of  the  place. 

As  in  the  other  cases,  the  first  idea  of  self  is  obtained 
probably  from  a  child's  own  feelings  as  he  touches  or 
sees  himself  and  moves  his  body  involun- 
tarily.     This    touch    is    different  from  the      ggi^"^ 
contact  with   other  bodies,   because  there 
are  two  sensations  instead  of  one,  touching  and  being 
touched.     By  degrees,  the  child  learns  that  his  arms 
and   legs  belong  to  him,   i.e.,  that  he  gets   pleasures 
and  pains  from  them,  but  he  does  not  seem  to  identify 
them   as  closely  with   himself  as  he  does  his   body. 
This  is  shown  in  some  examples  given  by  Sully — one 
child  saying  that  his  legs  get  in  the  way  of  himself. 
Another  thinks  that  his  stained  feet  are  different  from 
the  ones  he  had  in  the  morning. 

The  odd  ideas  that  children  have  about  their  bodies 
and  the  uses  of  the  various  parts  are  excellent  illustra- 
tions of  their  attempts  to  straighten  out  all  the  strange 
things  that  they  come  across. 

At  first  the  child's  only  sense  of  self  is  of  his  body, 
but  after  a  time  he  begins  to  distinguish  himself  from 
his  body.  As  far  as  I  know,  no  extended  observations 
have  been  made  on  how  the  transition  comes  about. 
We  know  that  in  the  race  history,  it  is  effected  through 
dreams,  shadows  and  echoes,  and  we  have  isolated 
cases  in  children,  like  George  Sand's,  where  the  same 
thing  occurs.  When  the  child  uses  "I"  and  "me" 
instead  of  his  name,  he  seems  to  have  arrived  at  this 
idea. 

Of  course  a  baby's  first  ideas  of  particular  distances 
come   from    his   own     experiences    in    grasping    and 


152 


THE    CHILD 


crccpiiif^.     Distance   means  the  lengtli  of  his  arm,  or 

the  amount  of  creeping  or  walking  that  he  does  to  get 

to  an  object.     Feet  and  miles  mean  nothing 

Concept  0        ^^  j^j^^^  until  he  is  able  in  some  rough  wav  to 
distance.  ,  .  ' 

reduce  them  to  his  own  efforts  in  walk- 
ing, reaching,  or  seeing.  He  puts  together  certain 
common  factors  from  many  experiences  and  thus  gets 
a  crude  concept  of  a  foot  or  a  yard  or  a  mile.  Hut 
accurate  concepts  are  slow  to  develop,  for  even  grown 
people  have  imperfect  ideas  of  a  mile,  and  when  it 
comes  to  five  or  ten  miles,  we  take  to  measuring  the. 
distance  by  time.  A  place  is  fifteen  minutes'  walk,  or 
half  an  hour's  car  ride  away. 

This,  however,  probably  means  as  little  to  a  child  as 

the  space  measurement.     We  all   know  how  confused 

to  a  small    child   are  the  lengths  of  month 

concept  of  ,  ^f  j^^^^,j.  .j,^j  minute.     A  child  of 

time.  -         ' 

three  often  has  great  difficulty  in  under- 
standing yesterday  and  day  before  yesterday.  The 
time  when  his  mother  was  a  little  girl  was  many 
years  ago,  at  the  same  time  when  Caesar  and  Heracles 
lived. 

We  have  no  data  to  show  when  children  first  get 
time  concepts  that  are  at  all  adecjuate,  and  the  case  is 
much  the  same  with  regard  to  other  concepts.  We 
know  that,  generally  speaking,  a  child  has  developed 
beyond  the  gross  inaccuracies  by  the  time  he  is  four- 
teen, but  we  know  nothing  of  what  classes  of  erroneous 
concepts  are  corrected  first  and  what  linger  latest. 
There  is  room  for  much  observation  here. 

If  it  is  true  that  a  child's  ideas  of  a  class  depend 
upon  his  experience  with  objects  of  the  class,  then  it 
is  evident  that   the  first   stt-p   toward  getting  a  correct 


CONCEPTION   AND    REASONING 


153 


idea  is  to  ^ive  many  objects  with  which  to  get  acquain- 
ted. A  child  who  has  seen  only  one  dog,  can  not  know 
as  much  about  dogs,  other  things  being  Forming 
equal,  as  the  child  who  has  played  with  correct 
several.  A  child  who  has  seen  but  one  river  concepts. 
has  a  more  imperfect  idea  of  rivers  than  a  child  who  has 
seen  many.  Of  course,  by  far  the  best  way  is  to  show 
the  children  the  actual  object,  but  if  this  is  impossible, 
pictures  do  a  great  deal,  especially  pictures  that  differ 
in  minor  details  but  agree  in  essentials. 

It  is  hardly  enough,  however,  simply  to  put  the  vari- 
ous objects  or  pictures  or  ideas  before  the  child.  He 
should  be  led  to  judge  whether  the  differences  are  so 
great  that  the  objects  can  not  be  put  into  one  class. 
The  degree  to  which  this  comparison  is  carried  out 
must  be  decided  by  the  teacher.  Kindergarten  chil- 
dren notice  only  the  more  striking  likenesses  and  differ- 
ences, but  in  the  ninth  year  a  great  awakening  occurs. 

Such  comparison  is  quite  as  important  as  having 
many  objects  because  it  means,  once  more,  the  form- 
ing of  associations  which  bind  the  child's  world  of 
thought  into  a  whole,  and  it  lays  the  foundation  for  the 
systematic  reasoning  which  occurs  in  later  life. 

We  ha\'e  already  answered  indirectly  the  question  of 
whether  general  ideas  can  exist  before  language.     It 
seems  unquestionable,  from  the  way  that  a      conception 
child  acts  toward  objects    that    are  alike,      andian- 
that  he  does   have  some  class  ideas  before      e^*se. 
he  has  learned  to  speak. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  lan- 
guage facilitates  the  formation  of  concepts  because  it 
provides  a  convenient  form  in  which  to  keep  the  idea. 
Then,  too,  when  the  baby  learns   to   speak,    the   great 


154 


THK    CHILD 


witk'ninj^  in  his  ability  to  ^ct  what  he  wants  is  a  pow- 
erful stinuikis  to  mental  activity,  and  to  the  naming  of 
thin<^s. 

The  first  (]ucstions  arc;  usually  about  what  things  are, 
and  this  often  means  only  what  tlu'ir  names  are.  The 
fact  that  this  thing  is  a  "dictionary"  is  itself  satisfying 
entuigh  to  rest  in  for  some  time.  Some  children  seem 
to  have  a  mania  for  learning  the  names  of  objects; 
they  seek  for  the  Christian  name  of  every  fish  and 
insect  and  leaf,  and  when  the  wearied  mother  tells 
them  that  there  are  no  such  names  for  them,  the  child  in 
pity  christens  them  himself.  Some  anthropologists  see 
in  this  a  sur\-ival  of  the  early  worship  and  fear  of  the_ 
word  as  a  living  thing.  The  Scriptures  tell  us  that  the 
Israelites  dared  not  pronounce  the  true  name  of  Jeho- 
vah; in  the  Middle  Ages,  it  was  believed  that  there  were 
words  whose  potcMicy  was  sufficient  to  summon  all  the 
powers  of  evil  to  the  aid  of  the  bold  man  who  spoke 
them;  and  so,  in  the  little  child's  satisfaction  with  a 
name,  there  is  perhaps  an  implicit  belief  that  it  has 
a  certain  force  of  its  own. 

For  a  long  time  a  child  is  at  the  mercy  of  verbal 
sounds,  mistaking  words  for  others  that  sound  like 
them  but  are  spelled  differently,  or  getting  the  wrong 
word.  We  all  have  some  choice  examples  of  this. 
Here  are  two:     One  child  sang  lustily, 

"Dare  to  be  a  spaniel  (Daniel), 
Dare  to  stand  alone, 
Dare  to  have  a  purple  spine  (purpose  fine), 
And  dare  to  make  it  known  !" 

Another  one,  when  asked  by  her  father  what  she  had 
learned  in  Sunday  school  that  morning,  told  him 
earnestly  that  the  minister  said  that  "he  must  put  his 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING 


155 


trousers   in   heaven,  where  the  moths  could   not  get  at 
them!" 

However,  when  a  child  begins  to  question  what 
things  are  like,  the  question  of  what  things  are  begins 
to  mean  what  they  are  like. 

The  period  before  nine  when  all  the  quaint,  childish 
fancies  that  so  delight  us  control  the  child,  is  espe- 
cially the  age  of  imagination.  The  odd 
comparisons  between  familiar  things,  the  a^^rea^on!^ 
imagining  of  a  situation  that  may  have  led 
up  to  present  conditions,  are  fancies,  but  they  are  also 
attempts  to  make  the  world  a  unified  and  reasonable 
one.  We  have  seen  that  the  child's  first  class  idea  is 
the  same  as  his  idea  of  the  individual,  cUid  is  separated 
from  it  only  through  varying  experience.  So  his  first 
reason  is  an  image  or  a  craving,  as  is  also  the  reason 
of  many  adults,  and  takes  the  form  of  logic  only  with 
a  later  development.  When  we  ask  a  child  ivhy  he 
did  this,  it  is  hard  for  him  to  say,  because  his  reason 
is  probably  only  a  desire,  a  picture  of  himself  enjoy- 
ing a  certain  thing,  and  it  is  hard  to  put  this  into 
words.  "Because,"  or  "Because  I  wanted  it,"  is  as 
far  as  he  can  go. 

In  reasoning  a  more  developed  form  of  thought 
than  a  conception  is  reached,  for  in  it  the  relations 
which  were  taken  for  granted  before  are  conception 
now  stated.  The  concept  of  table  includes  and 
the  ideas  of  a  flat  top  and  of  usefulness  to  ^^^^"^  °s- 
put  things  on;  but  the  reasoning  about  tables,  expounds 
that  this  is  a  table  because  all  tables  have  the  same  qual- 
ities that  this  has.  We  recognize  clearly  now  relations 
that  before  have  either  been  unseen  or  only  obscurely 
seen. 


156 


THE    CHILD 


Rcasoninj^r  takes  three  cominon  fcM'ms — the  tracing 
of  a  particular  cause  to  a  particuhir  effect;  the  dis- 
covery of  a  law  or  truth  or  system  from  observation  of 
particular  facts;  and  the  classifying  under  an  already 
known  law  the  facts  afterward  observed.  We  will  con- 
sider the  child's  reasoning  under  these  heads. 

Throughout  all  the  child's  thinking,  as  in  his  imag- 
ining, he  works  from  a  personal  world  to  an  imper- 
sonal. His  first  ideas  of  cause  and  effect 
Reasoning 

from  cause  are  doubtless  obtained  from  his  own  move- 
to  effect,  nients  and  their  results,  and  the  sense  of 
power  appears  to  have  its  rise  with  the  first  volitions 
or  persistent  imitations  in  the  period  between  four  and 
six  months.  During  this  period  the  child  seems  to  be 
experimenting  to  see  what  he  can  do.  He  repeats  and 
varies  a  movement  ad  i/ifinittini,  discovering  the  possi- 
bilities and  limitations  of  his  mo\'ements,  and  at  every 
step  connecting  a  given  movement  with  a  certain  objec- 
tive result.  Thus  he  learns  that  he  can  always  get  certain 
things  by  doing  certain  others,  and  has  the  feeling  of 
himself  as  a  power  or  cause.  In  all  his  experiences, 
he  and  others  like  him  are,  more  than  anything  else, 
the  causes,  or  movers  of  things.  He  sees  very  little 
of  impersonal  natural  causes.  This  strengthens  what 
seems  to  be  his  instinctive  tendency  to  refer  all  results 
to  a  personal  cause.  As  Sully  puts  it:  "He  starts  with 
the  amiable  presupposition  that  all  things  have  been 
hand-produted,  after  the  manner  of  household  posses- 
sions. The  world  is  a  sort  of  big  house  where  every- 
thing has  been  made  by  somebody,  or  at  least  fetched 
from  somewhere."  "To  ask  ^^'ho  made  the  animals,  the 
babies,  the  wind,  the  clouds,  etc.,  is  for  him  merely  to 
apply   the    more    familiar    type    of    causation    as    the 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  Icy 

normal  rule."  One  three-year-old  girl  thought  that 
when  the  water  spurted  from  the  faucet,  it  was  choking 
because  it  coughed.  One  child  of  four  years  thought 
that  n//"//////^  water  was  alive;  and  another,  that  wind- 
mills were  alive  because  they  moved.  Most  small 
mothers  think  that  their  dolls  or  pets  must  like  the 
same  things  that  they  do  themselves. 

Observations  have  been  made  upon  kindergarten 
children  to  ascertain  when  they  first  asked  "why."  It 
was  found  that  all  children  had  asked  "why"  before 
the  third  year,  and  75  per  cent  of  the  boys  asked  it 
before  the  second  year.  The  first  real  interest  in  the 
idea  of  cause,  however,  is  not  usually  shown  by  the 
firsts  "why";  but  appears  between  six  months  and  a 
year  later  in  70  per  cent  of  the  children. 

The  objects  which  call  out  this  first  question  vary 
considerably  in  boys  and  girls,  seeming  to  point  to 
certain  differences  in  the  natural  interests  of  the  two. 
Thus  75  per  cent  of  the  boys'  questions  relate  to  natural 
causes,  while  only  30  per  cent  of  the  girls'  do.  Such 
questions  as,  "Why  does  it  grow  dark?"  "How  does 
God  make  it  thunder?"  fall  here.  Fifty  per  cent  of 
the  boys  ask  questions  about  movements,  such  as  "Why 
do  wheels  go?"  "Why  do  horses  run?",  while  only 
25  per  cent  of  the  girls  are  first  interested  in  move- 
ment. Twenty-five  per  cent  of  the  boys  are  curious 
about  the  adaptation  of  structure  to  function:  "Why 
do  birds  have  wings?"  "Why  does  Towser  have  four 
legs  and  I  only  two?"  The  girls  have  little  interest 
in  this. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  girls  ask  more  first  questions 
about  God  and  Christ,  and  about  domestic  affairs. 
Both  boys  and  girls  always  show  great  persistency  in 


■58 


THE    CHILD 


following  up  a  question  with  others  until  a  satisfactory 

answer  is  obtained. 

Along  with  this  idea  of  personal  cause  goes  the  other 

idea,  that  everything   has  a  purpose  behind  it,  and  so 

we   find   children   ready  to  believe  that  the 

^'^^^°^  sun    rises    for   them   to  get   up  by,  that  the 

purpose.  . 

flowers  grow  for  them  to  pick,  that  the  rain 
is  trying  to  plague  them,  and  so  on. 

We  can  realize  how  deep  in  human  nature  lies 
this  tendency  to  make  man  the  center  of  all  things, 
when  we  find  the  earliest  men,  the  savage  races  of 
to-day,  and  even  the  civilized  man  himself  doing  the 
same  thing.  1  fancy  that  there  are  few  of  us  who  have 
not  at  some  time  been  thoroughly  angry  with  some 
object  or  material  that  we  could  not  control  as  we 
wished.  In  early  times  inanimate  things  and  animals 
had  legal  punishment  meted  out  to  them  as  to  persons. 

In  these  first  experiences,  what   reasoning  there  is, 

is   usually    only    an     association    of   one    thing    with 

another.     Thus  the  child   who   learns  that 

Reasoningby   ^j    ,    ^^^^^^        ^^    j^^^^^^  ^,^^}  ^^^^  supper  fol- 

association.  *^  ^' 

lows,  may  reverse  the  procedure  and  sup- 
pose that  getting  sui)[)er  ready  is  the  cause  of  the 
father's  arrival. 

The  assertions  that  the  object  of  Thanksgiving  is  so 
that  we  can  have  turkey,  and  of  Christmas  so  that  we 
can  have  presents,  combine  both  forms.  Little  by  little, 
the  child  is  forced  to  discard  a  personal  agency  for  a 
simple  sequence  of  events,  and  so  he  seems  to  become 
less  imaginative. 

Of  cause  in  the  sense  of  reason,  he  seems  to  have 
little  idea  as  yet.  Sequence  and  analogy  of  sequence 
govern    his    thought.       Mr.    Brown    gives    numerous 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING 


159 


instances  of  this.  Thus  one  boy  would  be  a  minister 
SO  he  could  ha\e  the  money  from  the  collection  boxes. 
One  little  girl  said  she  was  a  woman  now  because  she 
h.'id  a  butter  plate  given  her  instead  of  having  her 
bread  spread. 

Preyer's  boy  in  the  fifth  month  first  connected  move- 
ments with  the  following  noises:  the  tearing  of  paper, 
the  jingling  of  keys,  the  opening  and  shutting  of  a 
drawer  with  the  accompanying  sound.  He  would  strike 
a  spoon  against  a  plate,  listen,  and  then  repeat  it  as  if 
trying  to  see  where  the  sound  came  from.  His  delight 
in  producing  such  results  was  at  its  maximum  during 
the  tenth  month,  and  Preyer  believes  this  indicates  the 
knowledge  that  he  was  an  agent  or  cause.  But  even 
then  he  had  not  learned  that  objects,  when  dropped, 
fall  to  the  ground,  and  gaped  with  astonishment  to 
see  them  go. 

By  degrees,  however,  definite  sequences  are  estab- 
lished, and  then  occurs  the  reasoning  which  is  so  ludi- 
crous to  us  and   so  sensible  to  the  child. 

One  child  thought  that  a  person  with  gray  Establishing 
"  ^  °      -'    of  sequences, 

eyes  must  be  old.     Another  of  three  years 

and  three  months  thought  that  a  card  lying  on  the  floor 

was  the  cause  of  the  sewing-machine  not  going,  because 

when  his  mother  got  up  to  pull  the  machine  out  from 

the  wall,  she  first  picked  up  the  card  from  the  floor. 

Analogy  of  sequences  is  seen  in  such  cases  as  these: 

One  child  of  two  and   a  half  thought  that   her  baby 

sister   only   needed    larger   shoes    in    order    to   walk; 

another,   that  her  eyes  were  bright  because  the  sun 

shone  into  them   as  into  a  room;  another  of  five,  that 

men  are  filled  with  sawdust,  like  dolls;  a  boy  of  five, 

that   standing   in    the   rain    until    he  got  soaked  would 

11 


[f)0  THE   CHILD 

make  him  <^^ro\v  fast,  as  it  does  seeds,  so  that  he  could 
wear  "pants!"  One  j,Mrl  of  six,  when  told  that  ^^nmi 
was  i^rease  and  was  not  good,  reasoned  thus:  "Lard  is 
in  d()U<,dinuts,  lard  is  grease.  It's  good!"  and  contin- 
ued chewing.  A  boy  of  five  reasoned  that  thunder  was 
made  in  heaven  in  the  same  way  that  sounds  are  made 
in  a  sawmill.  A  girl  of  seven  was  afraid  to  eat  apple 
seeds,  lest  they  grow  uj)  to  trees.  Another  wontiered 
why,  if  she  were  dust,  she  did  not  turn  to  mud  when 
she  drank  water.  One  girl  thought  her  brother  pale 
because  he  washed  so  much.  Then,  too,  there  is  the 
little  boy  who  thriftily  planted  his  dime  to  have  it 
grow,  and  another  who  planted  bird  seed  to  get  more 
birds  and  sardine  cans  to  get  more  sardines.  Again, 
one  boy  thought  his  mother  could  round  some  pieces 
of  cloth  better  if  she  had  a  poker  to  use  as  the  motor- 
man  uses  his  to  get  around  a  corner.  The  small  boy 
who  had  lost  a  tooth  and  thought  the  new  tooth  of  his 
baby  sister   must  be  his,  is  not  alone  in  his  reasoning. 

Such  examples  show  us  how  vague  the  child's  ideas 
are.  He  has  to  learn  that  balls  will  roll  away  if  his 
hands  let  goof  thcmi;  that  he  can  use  his  hands  to 
move  things,  and  so  on.  When  we  consider  that  a 
child  begins  life  with  no  knowledge,  we  must  admit 
that  to  learn  so  much  in  the  short  space  of  a  year  he 
reasons  much  instead  of  little. 

This  purely  temporal  relation  of  one  event  to  another, 

if  it  be  a  constant  one,  gives  to  the  child   his  first  idea 

of     law    and    orcK-r.      In    his    contact    with 

Idea  of  law      nature,    he    exi)eriences    certain     fixed    se- 

and  order.  '  '  i    i  i 

quences,  such   as  the  seasons   and  day  and 

night.    In  his  contact  with  people,  and  in  the  ordering 

of  his  daily  life  he  should  find  the  same   thing   in  all 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  l6l 

cases  where  his  mature  mind  will  later  justify  the  order 
by  reasons.  Just  in  })roportion  as  we,  his  elders,  arrange 
our  lives  and  his  according  to  an  order  controlled  by 
laws,  shall  we  help  him  to  untangle  the  essential  from 
the  unessential. 

Plato  in  discussing  the  proper  education  of  youth, 
makes  the  point  that  we  can  not  get  citizens  who  are 
obedient  to  law  in  later  life,  unless  we  have  trained 
them  to  a  respect  for  law  in  childhood.  Now,  what 
Plato  says  of  civil  law  is  equally  applicable  to  law  in 
its  widest  sense.  The  child  who  is  given  meals  at 
irregular  hours,  who  is  never  trained  to  habits  of 
bathing  and  cleaning  the  teeth,  of  sleeping,  and  so 
on,  will  never  have  a  respect  for  the  laws  of  his  body. 
If  he  is  trained  to  the  fallacy  that  he  can  eat  and  drink 
just  as  he  pleases,  without  bad  results,  that  he  can 
sleep  or  not  and  feel  just  the  same,  that  he  can  bathe 
or  not,  and  still  be  clean,  he  can  not  have  the  belief  in 
cause  and  effect  that  the  child  who  has  been  taught  to 
observe  regularity  in  all  such  things  has.  Order  or 
regularity  is  the  same  as  law  to  the  little  child;  and  to 
primitive  peoples  also  custom,  or  the  usual  way,  is  the 
law.  The  reason  upon  which  this  law  rests  becomes 
apparent  only  later.  Hence  it  is  our  part  to  see 
that  children  acquire  habits  or  customs  of  orderly 
acting  and  thinking,  customs  which^need  not  be  dis- 
turbed when  reason  passes  them  in  review.  So  shall 
respect  and  obedience  to  law  be  a  work  of  love  and  not 
of  duty. 

To  many  it  will  probably  seem  rather  pretentious  to 
class  the  modest  efforts  of  children  to  make  their 
world  into  a  connected  whole  under  inductive  reason- 
ing, which  is  the  method  of  scientists.     But  precisely 


l52  THE    CHILD 

because    the    two    are    not    usually  associated    in    our 

thouf^ht,  we  wish  to  unite  them  here.     The  child  mind 

Inductive        '^   trying,    though    si:)asmodically,  to  reach 

reasoning  or  to  a  system  of  thought.  lie  does  not  like 
attempts  at  , .     '   .  ,  ,  ,  i      i ,  i  i     i  • 

system  to  live  m  a  chaotic  world,  and  although  his 

making.  efforts   to  produce   order   are   greatly   lim- 

ited by  his  inexperience  and  by  his  undeveloped  power 
of  attention,  the  desire  for  unity  which  impels  him  is 
the  same  as  that  which  impels  the  scientist. 

In  discussing  the  child's  thoughts  about  nature, 
Sully  says  that  we  can  see  some  crude  attempts  to  form 
a  system  and  to  get  Ijack  to  the  first  cause  which  will 
explain  all  else.  In  what  little  we  know  of  the  child's 
naive  thoughts  on  this  subject  we  are  strongly  reminded 
of  the  speculations  of  the  early  philosophers.  The 
child,  too,  wonders  who  made  God;  who  were  the  first 
people  and  who  took  care  of  them  when  they  were 
babies;  where  the  first  hen  came  from,  and  so  on.  The 
child,  like  the  race,  seems  first  to  ask  "why"  and 
only  later  to  become  interested  in  "how"  and  satis- 
fied with  it. 

When  he  comes  to  frame  his  cosmology,  things  are 
taken  for  what  they  seem.  The  earth  is  flat  and  the 
sky  round;  the  stars  and  the  moon  shine  through  holes 
in  the  sky  and  are  lamps  for  God  or  the  angels. 
Natural  phenomejia  like  thunder  and  lightning,  storms, 
wind,  etc.,  are  caused  by  God  for  some  definite  pur- 
pose of  His  own. 

Most  children  have  some  such  imperfect  system, 
which  they  fill  out  from  time  to  time  in  detail.  Thus 
one  boy  of  six  after  watching  the  smoke  rising  from  a 
locomotive  said  he  knew  now  that  smoke  made  the 
sky.     This  was  not  so  bad  for  a  city-dweller. 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  163 

The  consistency  of  these  childish  reasonings  is  a 
subject  on  which  we  have  as  yet  few  exact  data.  Earl 
Barnes  assures  us  that  it  is  difficult  for  a 
child  to  hold  a  whole  subject  in  his  mind  f^reasontng. 
because  his  thinking  is  fragmentary.  In 
drawing  the  story  of  the  "Three  Bears, "  for  instance,  a 
child  will  often  forget  the  story  in  his  delight  in  draw- 
ing the  bears,  and  will  fill  the  paper  with  bears  and 
nothing  else.  This  is  doubtless  true  to  a  certain 
extent.  We  have  already  seen  that  the  little  child's 
interest  is  an  immediate  one,  and  that  he  does  not 
clearly  distinguish  means  from  ends. 

Still,  we  must  not  suppose  that  a  child  sees  no  con- 
nection between  cause  and  effect,  and  does  no  con- 
nected thinking.  Observations  made  by  Miss  Lillian 
Clow  seem,  on  the  contrary,  to  show  that  when  chil- 
dren have  once  made  an  assumption  about  an  object, 
they  hold  to  that  fairly  well  in  the  rest  of  their  think- 
ing about  that  object. 

Miss  Clow*  collected  data  from  360  children,  40  of 
each  grade  from  kindergarten  through  eighth  grade,  in 
order  to  see  how  their  reasoning  changed  as  they  grew 
older.  She  selected  a  sea  porcupine  as  an  object  with 
which  the  children  were  unfamiliar,  so  that  their 
reasoning  would  not  be  directly  influenced  by  their 
knowledge,  but  which  was  yet  striking  enough  to 
arouse  curiosity  and  stimulate  thought.  This  was 
shown  to  the  children  and  they  were  asked  these  ques- 
tions among  others: 

I.   What  does  it  look  like? 

*Unpublished  data  from  Chicago  school  children.  The  object 
was  a  beautiful  specimen  of  a  sea  porcupine.  The  tables  are 
given  in  per  cents. 


164 


THE    CHILD 


2.  What  do  you  think  it  is?     Why? 

3.  Where    did    it    come    from  ?     What    makes    you 
think  so? 

4.  If  it  moved    from   one  place  to  another,  how  did 
it  go? 

The  following  tables  show  the  answers. 


Question  i 


Fish 

Porcupine , 

"Porcupine  fish' 
Miscellaneous. . , 


Kg. 

15 

I 

37i 

2 

40 

3 
47i 

4 

52^ 

5 

6 

7 

8 

85 

50 

52| 

27. i 

0 

2^ 

17 

22 

15 

7 

42 

15 

42 

0 

0 

0 

7 

0 

2 

0 

to 

0 

77 

55 

37 

17 

27 

5 

7 

17 

3" 

Total 

45^ 

18 

2 

31 


Question  2 

Kg. 

I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

Total 

Fish 

Porcujiine 

17 
0 
6 

62 

52 
5 
0 

37 

57 

25 

0 

12 

57 
20 

5 
12 

62 

25 

0 

10 

87 
7 
2 
2 

65 

25 

2 

7 

85 
2 

10 
2 

80 

12 

0 

5 

64 

lol 

2 

17 

"Porcupine  fish". . . 
Miscellaneous 

Question  3 


Sea  or  ocean.. 
Lake,  river.  .  . 
Geog.  place. .  . 
Miscellaneous. 


Kg. 

I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

2 

22 

40 

40 

45 

75 

37 

77 

65 

15 

30 

42 

25 

20 

12 

10 

2 

10 

2 

2 

7 

5 

2 

12 

42 

17 

22 

67 

40 

10 

25 

27 

0 

10 

2 

2 

Total 


45  \    63 

18  f  Wb 

I2| 

20g 


iter 


Question  4 

Kg. 

17 
25 
17 

I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

Totals 

Swam 

Crawled  or  walked. 
Rolled 

47 
15 
12 

70 
12 
10 

57 
30 
12 

67 
10 
10 

87 

2 

10 

65 
20 

7 

87 
5 
2 

77 

5 

12 

64 
II 
10 

One  of  the  interesting  things  in  these  tables  is  to  see 
how  the  per  cent  of  miscellaneous  answers  decreases 
from  the  kindergarten  up.  Whereas  69  per  cent  of  the 
kindergarten  childr:m  give  such  different  answers  that 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  I65 

they  can  not  be  classified,  only  5  per  cent  of  the  fifth 
grade  and  a  somewhat  larger  number  of  the  eighth 
grade  do.  This  seems  to  show  the  effect  of  the  inter- 
change of  ideas  in  training  all  children  to  similar 
habits  of  thought  so  that  they  reason  in  much  the 
same  way  even  on  new  subjects. 

In  discussing  the  consistency  of  the  answers,  we  see 
how  well  the  children  hold  to  a  standard  that  they  have 
chosen.      Thus   if  a  child   says  in  the  first  Deductive 

answer  that  the  strange  animal  looks  like  a  reasoning  or 

^       ,  .      ,         ,  •     1       r-  classifying 

fish   and  is  a  fish  because  it   has  little  fins,  byastand- 

and  that   it  will   live   in   water,   and   swim,   ^J^<1- 

he   is  thoroughly  consistent  throughout  with   his  first 

assumption  that  it  was  like  a  fish. 

The  answers  to  the  first  three  c]uestions  were  clearly 

consistent    in    51^^  per  cent  of  the  individual   papers, 

and  clearly    inconsistent    in    i6}4    per    cent.     In    the 

remaining  cases  the  child's  thought  seemed  confused. 

These  per  cents  were  distributed  as  follows: 


Kg". 

28 
10 

I 

26 
16 

2 

61 
20 

3 

53 
23 

4 

44 

18 

5 

72 

6 

74 
19 

7 

82 

13 

8 

Totals 

Consistent 

Inconsistent.  . . . 

78 
17 

51 
16 

We  should  hardly  seem  justified  from  these  figures 
in  concluding  that  even  the  little  child's  thought  is 
prcdomi7iantly  fragmentary.  It  may  be  true  that  the 
systematic  questioning  made  the  children  relate  their 
answers  more  closely  than  they  would  have  if  left  to 
themselves,  so  that  the  percentage  of  consistency  may 
be  a  little  higher  than  it  should  be;  but  even  so  it 
would  seem  that  a  child's  thought  is  not  so  much  incon- 
sistent as  it  is  incomplete. 


l66  THE    CHILD 

Till-  impro\cmcnt  in  consistcnc}'  from  2?>}i  per  cent 
in  the  kindergarten  to  78  per  cent  in  eighth  grade  is 
very  marked,  and  is  closely  paralleled  by  Mr.  Han- 
cock's observations  on  reasoning  about  numbers.  They 
show  an  improvement  from  40  per  cent  of  correct 
reasonings  at  the  age  of  seven  years  to  86  per  cent  at 
fifteen. 

Mr.  Hancock  experimented  upon  one  thousand  chil- 
dren from  seven  to  fifteen  years  old,  to  find  the  rate  of 
increase  in  ability  to  reason  on  arithmetical 

Experiment  ^ 

witharith-     problems.     He  gave    problems  with    such 

meticai  small  numbers  that  no  difficultv  could  be  ex- 

problems.  .  ....  ,  '•  , 

perienced  in  using  them,  making  the  entire 

difficulty  one  of  reasoning.  He  found  that  the  errors  de- 
creased from  60  per  cent  with  the  boys  at  seven,  and  63 
per  cent  with  the  girls  at  seven,  to  18  per  cent  with  the 
boys  at  fifteen  and  21  per  cent  with  the  girls.  From 
the  seventh  to  the  eighth  year,  there  is  an  increase  in  the 
number  of  errors,  for  both  boys  and  girls,  followed  by 
a  rapid  decrease  at  nine,  and  a  still  greater  decrease  at 
thirteen  and  fifteen;  but  at  fourteen  the  boys  make 
almost  as  many  errors  as  at  twelve.  The  boys  are 
sliijhtly  better  than  the  girls  except  between  seven 
and  nine,  and  at  fourteen.  The  greatest  difference  is 
in  the  period  between  eight  and  nine,  when  the  girls 
are  8  per  cent  to  11  per  cent  better  than  boys.  From 
the  eleventh  to  the  twelfth  year,  the  percentages  are 
nearly  equal. 

Notice  how  closely  these  \  ariations  in  reasoning  fol- 
low the  variations  in  growth  that  we  have  already 
traced,  the  periods  of  lessened  ability  to  reason  coin- 
ciding with  those  of  rapid  growth  in  height;  those  of 
greater,  with  increase  in  weight. 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING  l67 

A  simpler  form  of  deductive  reasoninj,^  is  seen  in  the 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  as  when  the  year-old  child 
pulls  the  tablecloth  over  to  brin^^  a  dish  Adapting 
within  reach,  or  climbs  into  a  chair  for  the  means  to 
same  purpose.  Or  when  the  three-year-old  ®^ 
feigns  a  cough  in  order  to  get  some  cough  drops.  A 
more  elaborated  form  is  seen  in  the  boy  of  four  who 
wanted  to  get  a  bone  from  a  dog.  When  he  found  that 
he  could  not  catch  the  dog  by  chasing  him,  he  got  a 
stick  and  brought  it  to  the  dog  to  smell.  In  smelling, 
the  dog  dropped  the  bone,  and  after  one  unsuccessful 
trial  the  boy  got  it.  Akin  to  this  is  the  thriftiness  of 
the  boy  who,  when  given  some  money,  bought  some 
court-plaster  "because  I  might  need  it  some  time." 
We  have  also  the  numberless  plans  to  escape  punish- 
ment. One  little  child  scrawled  the  newly  papered 
wall,  and  when  confronted  with  a  whipping  by  an 
indignant  mother,  appealed  to  her  affections  thus: 
"1  just  writed  a  letter  to  my  dear  papa.  Ain't  my 
papa  lobely?" 

The  various  examples  brought  together  in  this 
chapter  show  that  while  reasoning  and  conception  are 
imperfect  in  children,  nevertheless  they  play  a  promi- 
nent part  in  the  child's  mental  activity.  The  account 
of  them  has  necessarily  been  imperfect  because  so  few 
observations  have  been  made,  but  we  believe,  never- 
theless, that  enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the 
subject  is  well  worthy  a  more  careful  consideration 
than  it  has  yet  received. 

In  considering  what  use  parents  and  teachers  can 
make  of  the  facts  given  above,  the  problem  of  the  value 
of  children's  questions  presents  itself  first.  There  is  a 
certain  kind  of  questioning  into  which  some  children 


j58  the  child 

fall    automatically.     They  do  not  ask  because  they  do 

not  hear  or  because  they  want    to  know,  but  simply 

for  the  sake    of   saying  something.     Usu- 
Educational       ,,        .^  .  '      .  ..  ,, 

bearings.        ally,  if  no  answer  is  given  them  they  wan- 

chiidren's  ^ler  on  to  something  else,  and  from  that  to 
questions.  something  else.  Frequently  they  them- 
selves know  the  answer  to  the  question  they  ask. 
Such  a  bad  habit  can  usually  be  broken  by  asking  in 
turn  of  the  child  the  cjuestion  he  has  asked,  thus  making 
him  realize  how  foolish  or  how  thoughtless  he  has 
been.  However,  when  a  child  waits  for  an  answer, 
and  persists  in  the  question,  he  should  be  answered  in 
as  true  and  scientific  a  way  as  he  can  understand,  and 
should  be  encouraged  to  ask  more  qu(;stions,  instead 
of  being  repressed. 

Wonder,  or  curiosity  in  the  good  sense,  is  the  root 
of  all  love  of  knowledge,  and  it  is  one  of  the  greatest 
discredits  to  our  present  school  system  that  it  is  more 
likely  to  crush  this  tendency  than  to  nurture  it  into 
the  scientific  spirit.  The  child  who  enters  school 
curious  at  every  point,  overflowing  with  questions, 
and  brimful  of  wonder  and  reverence  at  the  mysterious 
things  about  him,  becomes  in  a  few  years  passive  and 
quiet,  a  receptacle  for  any  information  that  is  poured 
into  him,  and  blind  to  any  value  or  beauty  that  it  has. 
The  teacher  asks  all  the  (juestions  and  he  has  to  answer 
them.  Seldom  are  the  tables  turned.  Such  a  condi- 
tion is  very  different  from  the  ideal  school,  in  which 
there  is  a  constant  give  and  take  in  question  and 
answer  between  teacher  and  pupils,  and  where  both 
teacher  and  pupils  are  learners.  Both  have  doubts 
to  settle,  and  can  settle  them  best  by  a  free  discus- 
sion. 


CONCEPTION   AND    REASONING 


169 


A^aln,  we  often  do  not  know  how  to  answer  a  child's 
question  in  away  that  he  can  understand.  When  he  asks 
why  it  thunders,  or  why  the  leaves  fall  off,  it  is  puz- 
zling to  know  what  16  say.  Often,  if  we  can  cite 
some  similar  case,  it  satisfies  him.  If  he  has  ever 
seen  an  electric  spark,  he  will  probably  be  contented 
to  know  that  the  lightning  and  thunder  are  just  a  big 
spark  and  the  noise  that  it  makes.  .Such  an  answer  has 
the  further  advantage  of  connecting  in  the  child's  mind 
similar  phenomena,  and  of  forming  the  habit  of  looking 
for  such  similarities.  Certainly  it  is  useless  to  give 
the  child  superstitions  about  such  well  understood  sci- 
entific facts  as  these.  There  is,  however,  the  question 
of  whether  we  should  answer  a  child  imaginatively  or 
literally.  Mr.  Sully  is  authority  for  the  statement  that 
when  a  child  is  in  the  imaginative  age  between  four 
and  eight  we  can  best  answer  such  questions  as  why 
the  leaves  fall,  by  saying  that  they  are  tired  of  hang- 
ing on  the  trees.  We  can  say  that  Jack  Frost  draws 
the  pictures  on  the  window-pane,  and  in  various  ways 
assume,  as  the  child  himself  does  at  this  time,  that  all 
causes  are  persons.  In  this  connection  we  have  also 
the  much  mooted  question  of  whether  we  shall  teach 
children  to  believe  in  Santa  Claus  and  fairies. 

There  is,  I  believe,  a  point  to  be  made  here  which 
sets  a  standard  for  the  sort  of  answer  to  be  given.  It  is 
certainly  true  that  the  child  from  four  to  eight  years  old 
lives  in  a  world  that  is  personal  through  and  through, 
and  that  he  delights  in  Santa  Claus  and  fairies.  Now, 
the  point  is  this:  Can  we  not  answer  his  questions 
imaginatively,  and  still  in  such  a  way  as  to  present 
the  scientific  truth,  though  not  in  a  literal  form? 
There  is  a  certain  truth  in  the  statement  that  the  leaves 


I/O 


THE    CHILD 


art;  tired  of  hanging  on  to  the  trees,  and  that  they  drop 
off  because  they  are  old  and  weak.  The  child  who  has 
been  told  this  goes  on  easily  when  he  can  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  changes  in  the  leaf  that  dr\'  it  and  let  it 
drop  off.  The  essential  thing  is  to  state  the  truth  as 
nearly  as  we  can,  though  in  the  imaginative  form,  and 
not  to  give  a  child  the  imaginative  answer  when  he  is 
old  enough  for  the  scientific  one. 

Finally,  to  cultivate  a  child's  reasoning  powers, 
there  is  no  better  way  than  to  start  with  his  own  ques- 
tion, and  answer  enough  of  it  to  give 
reasontng^  him  the  necessary  information  and  the 
curiosity  to  think  out  the  rest  of  the 
answer.  Constantly  suggest  the  question  of  how  this 
fact  is  related  to  that:  If  leaves  drop  off  because  they 
are  tired,  why  do  not  the  oak  and  evergreen  leaves  get 
tired?  Or  do  they  get  tired  too?  Why  do  the  leaves 
come  out  in  the  spring?  If  lightning  is  an  electric 
spark,  why  don't  we  use  it  in  our  houses,  as  we  do 
electricity?  Lead  the  child,  through  imitation  and 
suggestion,  to  form  the  habit  of  question-ng  and  of 
thinking  out  the  answers  to  the  questions. 

Conception    and    reasoning,    like    all    other    mental 

processes,  are  of  gradual  growth,  and  are  to  be  found, 

in  germ,  even   in  the  baby.     The   infant's 

conclusion.  ,  .   ,  ,-rr         r  ,  r      ,  ,     ,      • 

class  ideas  differ  from  those  or  the  adult  in 
being  vague,  and  in  containing,  as  a  rule,  but  few 
qualities  instead  of  many.  His  ideas  are  also  usually 
inaccurate,  because  based  upon  an  experience  with 
but  few  objects  of  the  class,  and  those  objects  not 
carefully  compared. 

The   first   ideas  of  cause   and   law   are  derived  from 
experience  and  refer  both  causes  and  laws  to  persons. 


CONCEPTION    AND    REASONING 


171 


By  degrees  the  idea  is  enlarged  to  include  impersonal 
forces,  and  the  reason. 

In  like  manner  number,  space,  and  time  concepts 
are  applied  at  first  only  to  particular  objects,  spaces, 
and  times. 

In  all  cases,  the  widening  of  the  ideas  is  effected  by 
the  widening  and  comparison  of  experiences.  The 
value  of  questions  and  of  the  habit  of  connecting  as 
many  events  as  possible  is  inestimable,  therefore,  in 
the  formation  of  correct  concepts  and  correct  reasoning. 

REFERENCES 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.  Menial  Development:  Methods  and  Proc- 
esses. Section  on  Origin  of  Conception.  N.  Y.  Mac- 
millan,  §1.75. 

Brown,  H.  W.  Thoughts  and  Reasonings  of  Children.  Ped, 
Scin.,  i8g2,  Vol.  II,  358-396.  (A  collection  of  examples  of 
reasoning.) 

Clapp,  H.  L.  Educative  Value  of  Children's  Question.  Pop.  Sc. 
Mo.,  1S96,  Vol.  XLIX,  799-809,     (Good;  stimulating.) 

Davis,  Anna  I.  Interest  in  Causal  Idea.   C.  S.  M.,  Vol.  II,  226-232. 

Dewey,   John.      Psychology  of   Number.      Ped.    Sem.,    Vol.    V, 

426-434. 

Hall,  G.  S.  Contents  of  Children's  Minds  on  Entering  School. 
Ped.  Sent.,  1S91,  139-173.  Also  in  pamphlet  form.  N.  Y. 
Kellogg,  §0.25. 

Hancock,  J.  A.  Children's  Ability  to  Reason.  Educ.  Rev.,  1896, 
261-268. 

James,  W.     Thought  before  Language.     Phil.  Rev.,  I. 

McLellan  and  Dewey.  Psychology  of  Number.  N.  Y.  Apple- 
ton,  $1.50. 

Perez,  B.  Developpement  des  Idees  Abstraites  chez  1' Enfant. 
Rev.  Phil.,  XL,  449-467. 

Perez,  B.  First  Three  Years  of  Childhood.  163-223.  Elabora- 
tion of  ideas.     Syracuse.     Bardeen,  $1.50. 

Ribot,  Th.  Evolution  of  General  Ideas,  esp.  31-39,  86-137, 
180-213.     Chicago.     Open  Court,  $1.25. 


I  72 


THE  CHILD 


General   ideas  of   Children   and   Deaf  Mutes.      Open  Court, 

1899,  164-75. 
Small,  M.  H.     Instinct  for  Certainty.     Fed.  Sem.,  1S9S,  3S 1-420. 
Sully,  James,      Studies  of  Childhood.     64-91.     N.  Y.    Applcton, 

$2.50.     (Good.) 
Tracy,  F.    Physiology  of  Childhood.    75-82.    Thinking.  Boston. 

Heath,  $0.90 


CHAPTER  IX 

Religious  Sentiment  and  Theological  Ideas 

Question  the  children  on  the  following  points: 

1.  God.     Where  is  He?     What  does   He  do?     Why 
can  we  not  see  Him?  Observa- 

2.  Death.     Why  do  people  die?     Where     ^^o^s. 

,      ,,  ^  (Borrowed 

do  they  go?  fromEarle 

3.  Heaven.    Where  is  it?  Who  go  there?     Barnes.) 
What   do    they  do    there?     What  will    children   have 
there? 

4.  Hell.     What  must  a  person  do  to  go  there?  What 
is  it  like? 

5.  Angels.     What  do  they  do? 

6.  Ghosts.     Why  are  people  afraid  of  them? 

7.  Witches.     What  can  they  do? 

8.  Prayer.     Why  do  people  pray?     Why  do  they  not 
get  what  they  pray  for? 

9.  Why  do  people  celebrate  Christmas?    Wny  do 
they  go  to  church? 

In   entering  upon   a  subject  on  which  there  are  so 

many  differing  opinions,  a  word  as  to  the  standpoint 

taken  is  necessary.     The  attempt  is  made 

here,  as  elsewhere,  to  state  in  an  unbiased        introduc- 

tion. 
way  all  the  facts  so  far  reached  by  actual 

observation  and  questioning  of   children  and    adults, 

and    to   draw   only   what   conclusions    are   warranted 

by  those  facts.     The  fundamental  principle   that  the 

teaching  of  childhood    largely  determines  the  adult's 

belief    is    the    idea   which    is    here    worked    out    in 

173 


IJA  THE   CHILD 

detail.  The  close  connection  between  physical  and 
mental  states  also  receives  further  emphasis  from  the 
study  of  relif^ious  phenomena,  and  we  do  not  believe 
that  religion  is  belittled  by  the  acknowledgment  of 
this  connection,  any  more  than  natural  science  is. 
Rather,  the  necessity  of  religion  is  emphasized. 

The  attem])t  to  sum  up  rt^ligious  feelings,  conver- 
sions, etc.,  in  tables  may  also  seem  to  some  to  be,  from 
the  very  nature  of  the  case,  futile.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, however,  that  these  data  are  obtained  from  the 
individuals  undergoing  the  experiences  thus  tabulated, 
just  as  were  the  data  for  imagination,  memory,  etc., 
and  are  reliable  to  the  same  degree.  Doubtless  more 
data  are  needed  to  corroborate  those  given,  but  equally 
are  more  needed  to  discredit  them.  They  are  simply 
contributions  to  aid  in  solving  the  difficult  problem  of 
religious  instruction. 

At  the  outset,  it  is  necessary  to  differentiate  certain 
terms  that  in  common  consciousness  overlap  or  are 
Morality  confused.  Morality,  religion  and  theology 
religion  and    are   not   identical,  and  yet  it  is   difficult  to 

eo  ogy.  separate  them.  The  difference  may  per- 
haps be  stated  concisely  thus:  They  represent  three 
aspects  of  human  nature — religion  is  the  feeling  or 
longing  for  unity,  the  feeling  of  sin,  the  consciousness 
of  imperfection  and  the  striving  for  harmony  with  the 
good.  It  is  primarily  emotional,  not  volitional  or 
intellectual.  Theology  is  the  interpretation  which  the 
intellect  gives;  the  formulating,  or  the  explanation  of 
this  feeling  of  incompleteness  and  striving  for  perfec- 
tion. Morality,  again,  is  the  code  of  action  and  the 
actual  living  toward  perfection  as  we  conceive  it,  the 
holding  of  right   relations   to    our  fellow-men  and   to 


RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL   IDEAS 


175 


God.  Theology  gives  the  mental  content  to  religious 
feeling,  and  morality  is  religion  incarnate.  A  man 
may  then  be  religious,  that  is,  he  may  have  the  relig- 
ious spirit,  without  believing  in  any  creed  or  dogma, 
and,  indeed,  so  Mr.  Leuba  says,  without  believing  in  a 
God,  if  he  has  this  active  longing  for  perfection,  for  a 
better  than  he.  His  theology  may  be  science  or 
philosophy,  or  any  kind  of  knowledge  whatever. 

If  we  accept  this  general  statement  we  can  easily  see 
that  theologies  and  systems  of  morality  will  vary  from 
age  to  age,  according  to  public  opinion  and  the  prog- 
ress of  knowledge;  but  that  the  underlying  religious 
feeling,  the  striving  of  the  self  toward  a  better  self, 
will  remain  as  the  source  or  motive  of  all  our  theologiz- 
ing and  moralizing.  Marshall,  indeed,  maintains  that 
there  is  a  religious  instinct,  an  inborn  desire  to  reach 
beyond  one's  petty  self,  and  that  this  is  the  root  of  all 
altruism — the  emphasis  of  the  race  as  against  the  indi- 
vidual. 

Froebel  also  maintains  that  the  germ  of  the  relig- 
ious spirit  exists  even  in  the  baby,  in  the  feeling  of 
community  and  dependence  between  him-  Religious 
self  and  the  mother;  and  Baldwin,  voicing  spirit  and 
the  opinion  of  many  writers  of  to-day,  social  spir  . 
looks  upon  the  religious  sentiment  as  the  highest  out- 
growth of  the  ethical  and  social  sentiments.  We 
can  not,  he  believes,  say  properly  that  the  little  child  is 
religious  except  as  he  is  social.  His  first  love,  trust, 
and  dependence,  are  directed  toward  the  people  about 
him.  Only  later,  and  by  slow  degrees,  does  he  learn 
to  transfer  these  feelings  to  an  invisible  God. 

In  these  relations  to  people,  he  is  developing  more 
sense    (i)    of  his  own  personality,  and    (2)    of   that  of 
12 


I  -5  THE   CHILD 

Others.  This  latter  phase  is  the  important  one  for  us 
at  present  and  takes  two  forms: 

(i)  Ejective.  The  child  constantly  interprets  others 
by  himself. 

(2)  Projective.  A  person  whom  the  child  does  not 
fully  understand  imposes  re<|uirements  upon  him,  thus 
causing  a  feelini;"  ()f  dependence  in  the  child. 

In  the  religious  sentiment,  the  first  element  gives 
content;  the  second,  mysler\-  and  awe. 

Thus  we  find  that  children  interi^ret  God,  heaven, 
etc.,  in  terms  of  their  familiar  ex})erience,  making, 
Child's  oftentimes,  the  most  grotescjue   and  bizarre 

images  of  combinations.  God  is  a  i)ig  man  and  Satan 
°  a  bogie,  heaven  is  a  glorified  earth,  and  so 

all  along  the  line.  The  little  child  looks  on  father  or 
mother  much  as  adults  do  on  God,  and  relying  upon 
them  for  help,  learns  his  first  lessons  in  religious  trust 
and  faith.  The  constant  comparisons  of  God  to  a  father 
may  have  their  root  in  this  underlying  relationship. 

So,  also,  the  child  may  look  upon  any  person  or  thing 
that  is  very  strong  as  a  God.  Sully  quotes  the  case  of  a 
little  boy  of  four  years  who,  on  seeing  a  group  of  work- 
men, asked  his  mother  if  they  were  gods,  "because  they 
make  houses  and  churches  same  as  God  makes  moons 
and  people  and  ickle  dogs."  The  idea  of  God  is,  at 
first,  only  that  of  a  person  more  powerful  than  others. 

As  the  child's  mind  develops,  he  comes  to  look  upon 
father  and  mother  as  the  all-wise  to  whom  obedience 
must  be  given  and  from  whom  knowledge  may  be 
obtained,  but  who  nuist  also,  on  occasion,  be  deceived 
or  propitiated.     God  is  then  the  great  lawgiver. 

The  question  of  whether  a  child  left  without  any 
religious  instruction  at  all  would  form  an  idea  of  God, 


RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL   IDEAS     \nn 

is  difficult  to  answer,  for  all  children  hear  more  or  less 

talk  about  religious  matters.     There  is,  however,  a  case 

of  an  uninstructed  deaf-mute,  M.  d'Estrella,      r«-„„x  „f 

'         _  '       Eflfect  of  no 

who  formed  for  himself  the  idea  of  a  religious 
"Strong  Man  behind  the  hills,  who  threw  the  ^^^i^^^e- 
sun  up  into  the  sky,  puffed  the  clouds  from  his  pipe, 
and  sent  out  the  wind  when  he  was  angry."  It  would 
be  strange,  indeed,  if  any  reflective  mind  did  not 
reach  some  idea  of  a  cause  of  the  world,  and  the  first 
tendency  is  always  to  make  the  cause  a  person. 

It  seems  very  probable  that  children  derive  their 
religious  ideas  in  part  from  the  awe  and  reverence 
inspired  by  natural  phenomena  and  from  the  inherent 
tendency  to  read  personality  into  all  unexplained 
events.  This  is  one  of  the  factors  in  the  development 
of  religion  in  the  race  which  the  child  repeats  in  his 
growth.  We  have,  however,  very  few  data  to  show 
how  strong  the  factor  is  in  the  modern  child,  and  we 
may  question  whether  his  contact  with  people  does  not 
so  overshadow  his  contact  with  nature  that  the  social 
factor  in  worship  is  far  stronger  than  the  nature 
factor. 

We  have  also  one  full  account*  of  the  theological 
ideas  of  a  boy  brought  up  without  religious  training, 
whose  parents  were  opposed  to  current 
religious  ideas,  but  who  was  accidentally  account^ 
informed  of  religious  matters  by  neighbors 
and  occasional  attendance  at  church.  It  is  interesting 
as  showing  the  effect  of  early  surroundings  in  as 
marked  a  way  as  the  other  records  to  be  quoted  later. 

No  religious  instruction  was  given  this  boy  and  he 
was  not  told  his  parents'   belief  until  fifteen  years  of 

♦Bergen's. 


I  j^  THE   CHILD 

age;  servants  were  warned  not  to  speak  of  religious 
matters,  no  grace  was  asked  at  table,  and  all  religious 
terms  used  in  his  presence  were  spelled.  Naturally 
he  became  very  curious  to  know  what  the  spelled 
words  meant.  He  first  went  to  church  to  an  Easter 
service  when  seven  years  of  age,  but  did  not  under- 
stand at  all  the  symbolism  of  the  spring  time  resurrec- 
tion. When  ten  years  old,  he  went  for  the  second 
time  to  a  Catholic  vesper  service,  at  which  he  was 
impressed  by  a  large  painting  of  Christ.  When  twelve 
years  of  age  he  was  encouraged  to  go  to  church,  but 
showed  great  distaste  for  it. 

He  knew  something  about  death  even  when  three 
years  old,  but  had  no  fear  of  it  until  eleven,  when  a 
physical  shrinking,  which  he  did  not  outgrow  for 
several  years,  manifested  itself.  He  was  unable  to 
conceive  of  the  soul  as  immaterial  at  ten  years  of  age, 
and  hunted  for  it  in  all  parts  of  dead  animals.  At 
twelve,  he  said  that  the  resurrection  could  not  have 
happened,  for  in  respect  to  death  people  were  in  the 
same  condition  now  that  they  were  two  thousand  years 
ago.  He  grew  very  eager  to  read  the  Bible,  because  he 
noticed  that  people  spoke  differently  of  it  from  what 
they  did  of  other  books;  but  when  a  New  Testament 
was  given  him,  at  the  age  of  ten,  he  soon  tired  of  it. 
At  eleven,  he  explained  the  accounts  of  miracles  as 
exaggerations  of  some  real  act  of  Jesus  due  to  the 
repeating  of  it  by  one  person  to  another. 

When  about  fifteen  years  old,  he  admitted  that  there 
must  be  some  force  or  cause  back  of  the  physical 
world,  but  he  maintained  that  we  had  no  reason  to  say 
that  this  force  was  a  person,  and  that  it  was  belittling 
to  worship  a  thiiig\  therefore  worship  was  senseless. 


RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL   IDEAS      [  ^Q 

In  the  case  of  children  who  receive  the  usual  relig- 
ious training,  there  is  an  unquestioning  acceptance  of 

what  is  told  them  up  to  the  seventh  vear.    _^,^,      ^^^ 

'  '  Child's  atti- 

Between    the  seventh    and  the   tenth   year  tude  toward 

there    are  some    questions,    and  after    ten,   religious 

'         .  .   .  instruction, 

attemi^ts  to  reason   things  out;  this  critical 

attitude    increasing    to    the    thirteenth    or    fourteenth 

year.     The  spirit  of  doubt  first  shows  itself  in  attempts 

to   place   the   responsibility  for  statements:    as,   "The 

Bible  says,"  "My  father  believes,"   etc.      Next  come 

attempts   to  make  the  theological  account  square  with 

actual   life  and  with   the  child's  own  ideas  of  kindness 

and    justice.      The    life   of    eternal   song   has    not    the 

attractions  that  life  with  a  calliope  or  drum  has.     The 

injustice  of  sending  the  baby  sister  to   hell  fires   leads 

to  rebellion  against  the  entine  system.     Still,  on  the 

whole,  there  is  little  questioning  from  most  children. 

Starbuck,*  who,   with   Barnes,  has    made  the   widest 

observations  on  children's  theological  ideas.      Prominent 

finds   the   following    factors    in   the  child's      reiigi?uT 

religious  life:  feeling. 


Credulity  and  conformity 

Doubt 

Bargaining  with  God 

God  as  talisman 

God  and  heaven  near 

Love  and  trust  in  God 

Awe  and  reverence 

Fears  

Dislike  of  religious  observances. . . 
Pleasure  in  religious  observances. 
Keen  sense  of  right  and  wrong. .  . . 


Boys 


♦Starbuck's  data  include  330  children;  Barnes's,  1,091. 


j8o  the  child 

We  notice  here  as  usual  the  unquestioning  accept- 
ance of  statements  made  by  parents,  teachers,  etc., 
iiotixi  also  1)\'  ISanu's.  This  Halchvin  would  doubtless 
refer  to  the  child's  feeling  of  dependence  on  parents. 
Again,  the  idea  of  barter,  etc.,  and  the  feelings  of  love 
and  reverence  and  fear  amount  only  to  20  per  cent  and 
14  per  cent  respectively.  This,  Mall  thinks,  seems  to 
point  to  p.irents  teaching  that  God  is  a  sort  of  servant 
for  the  child.  Barnes's  papers  show  essentially  the 
same  thing.  (iod  and  heaven  are  most  common  in 
thought;  hell  and  the  devil  less  so.  The  spiritual 
world  is  in  the  main  pleasant,  l)ut  is  peopled  with 
strange  forms,  doing  unreal  things. 

Natural  phenomena  are  hardly  mcntioiu-d  in  rela- 
tion to  God.  He  seems  to  the?  child's  consciousness 
wholly  distinct  from  the  world. 

Children  as  a  rule  have  very  vague  icU-as  about  what 
God  and  Christ  do,  or  what  religious  observance  is 
for.  One  boy  says  God  bosses  the  world,  but  usually 
they  seem  to  think  that  the  angels  do  the  practical 
work.  The  relation  of  Christ  to  God  is  reversed  in 
one  fourth  of  the  cases  where  He  is  mentioned,  and  in 
the  majority  of  cases  He  is  not  even  mentioned.  The 
Trinity  is  spoki:n  of  bv  only  two  children  out  of  one 
thousand  and  ninety-one. 

The  virtues  which   are    uKjst   commonly  considered 

necessary  in   order  to  get   to   heaven  are:     Bt-ing  \'ery 

good,  keeiiing  the  commandments,  believ- 
Religlous  '.  •      ^-      1     1       •  /-      1  •  .  II 

feeling  and      "''g'  "i  God,  lovmg  God,  praymg,  etc. — all 

moral  sense     [,,  (i^c  ijnc  of  religious  observance,  and   not 
In  the  child.  ,,      r  •      1  i-.^ 

at  all  of  practical  morality. 

Children  do  not  name  teachers  as  the  source  of  their 

ideas,  but  parents,  ehunh,  jjicturt.'s  and  the  "hired  girl." 


RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL    IDEAS     I  Si 

If  these  reports  are  typical,  it  would  seem  that  up 
to  the  age  of  twelve  the  child's  religious  consciousness 
consists,  as  a  rule,  simplv  of  statements  made  by  others 
and  accepted  without  doubt;  that  the  religious  feeling 
is  not  yet  separated  from  the  feeling  of  dependence 
and  mystery  excited  by  parents  and  companions;  and 
that  the  moral  sense  is  only  the  sense  of  what  custom 
demands.  Shame  is  the  shame  of  being  found  out, 
rather  than  of  the  doing  of  wrong,  and  the  virtues  pos- 
sessed by  the  child  are  the  result  of  imitation  rather 
than  of  moral  conviction. 

Between  the  ages  of  twelve  and  sixteen,  however, 
comes   the  great  period  of  conversion,  for  this   is  the 
time  when  by  far  the   majority  of  profes- 
sing  Christians    join    the    church.     If    this  Conversion: 
does  not  occur  before  the  age  of  twenty  at  ^.verageage. 
most,  it  is  unlikely  to  take  place  later. 

Starbuck's  records  show  that  out  of  three  hundred 
and  thirty  cases  in  all,  the  average  age  of  conversion 
for  girls  wa-:  between  twelve  and  thirteen  and  for 
boys  between  fifteen  and  sixteen.  A  second  period 
occurs  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  eighteen. 
These  cases  are  explained  by  the  fact  that  many  of 
those  converted  then  had  been  partially  converted 
two  years  before,  but  for  one  cause  or  another  had 
become  indifferent.  The  first  of  these  periods,  you 
will  notice,  is  at  the  age  of  puberty,  and  it  seems  prac- 
tically certain  that  the  oncoming  of  maturity  is  closely 
connected  with  conversion.  It  is  the  time  when  the 
physical  nature  develops  the  necessity  of  another  for 
its  perfection,  and  this  need  would  naturally  be 
reflected  in  the  mental  and  emotional  life  in  every 
way.      The  vague  mental    longings   and   questionings 


j82  "^h^  child 

and  unrests  clue  to  the  rapid  <^ro\vth  of  association 
fibcns  in  the  nerxous  centers  may  be  in  large  part 
satisfied  by  love  of  the  ideal,  and  the  hero-worship  of 
which  relijTJon  is  one  form.  This  close  connection 
between  mental  and  ph\'sical  i^rowth  is  shown  also  by 
the  records  of  early  conversion  (71  per  cent  of  women 
and  64  per  cent  of  men).  Such  conversions  are  often 
due  to  overtraining^  or  strong  pressure  (84  per  cent  and 
73  per  cent) ;  but  otherwise  they  seem  to  accompany 
early  physical  development  (43  and  36  per  cent). 

Coming  now  to  the  meaning  of  the   term,  "conver- 
sion" properly  covers   all   awakening   to  the  demands 
of  the  higher  life  and  determination  to  meet 

Meaning  of  ^,^^,,^  whether  the  change  be  sudden  or 
conversion.  '  '^  _ 

slow.     Most  writers  agree  in  the  following: 

1.  The  sense  of  sin.  This  is  found  in  17  per  cent  of 
revival  and  20  per  cent  of  non-revival  conversions,  with 
or  without  religious  training.  If  we  include  in  this 
the  fear  of  God  as  the  Judge,  with  the  resultant  fears 
of  death  and  hell,  we  must  add  15  per  cent  and  16  per 
cent  more  to  each  of  the  above,  making  32  per  cent 
and  26  per  cent  respectively.  When  the  early  life  has 
been  bad,  this  sense  is,  of  course,  more  jjrominent,  but 
it  api)ears  even  when  Jthe  worst  sins  are  little  faults. 
Professor  Leuba  says  that  fear  is  often  taken  for  the 
conviction  of  sin,  and  that  many  such  cases  are  com- 
plicated with  bodily  disorders — hysteria,  etc.,  which 
add  to  the  feeling.  This  period  will  be  referred  to 
Again  later. 

2.  Self-snrrender — the  yielding  of  self  to  the  divine 
will.  This  appears  in  10  per  cent  of  the  men  and  12 
per  cent  of  the  women.  It  is  usually  preceded  by 
much  mental  depression  and  meditation.      Often  there 


RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL    IDEAS     j  g  •? 

is  violent  resistance,  wrestling  with  God,  argument 
and  doubt.  This  is  much  more  prominent  in  men 
than  in  women— doubt  registering  with  them  36  per 
cent  as  against  6  per  cent  in  women.  In  a  few  cases 
this  is  foUowed  by  a  determination  to  live  a  better 
life,  but  as  a  rule  the  order  after  self  surrender  is  hope, 
tiust,  and  love,  culminating  in 

3.  FaitJi,  in  16  per  cent  of  men  and  15  per  cent  of 
women.  The  nature  of  faith  has  been  much  discussed 
by  theologians,  and  we  can  not  expect  to  settle  what  it 
should  be.  In  actual  practice,  it  seems,  more  than  any- 
thing else,  to  be  the  feeling  of  oneness  with  God  and 
good,  and  the  conviction  that  He  is  to  be  trusted.  It 
is  entirely  apart  from  intellectual  conviction,  and  is 
not,  as  a  rule,  belief  in  dogmas.  It  is  not  reasonable 
or  reasoned  faith,  but,  rather,  an  emotional  state.  It 
leads  directly  to 

4.  Justification,  and  the  sense  of  forgiveness,  (22  per 
cent  of  men  and  14  per  cent  of  women),  or  the  feeling 
of  divine  aid  (10  and  6  per  cent).  Physiologically 
this  is  perhaps  due  to  the  inevitable  reaction  from  the 
great  nerv^ous  strain.  We  are  speaking  here  of  revival 
cases  only.  Any  one  who  has  seen  a  genuine  old- 
fashioned  revival  can  not  doubt  that  mere  physical 
fatigue  has  in  some  cases  much  to  do  with  conversion. 
A  woman,  for  example,  worked  up  to  the  highest 
nervous  pitch  by  her  emotions,  gives  way,  and  an 
attack  of  weeping  and  laughing  with  consequent  relief 
follows,  which  is  interpreted  by  her  as  knowledge  of 
God's  forgiveness. 

5.  As  the  natural  result,  there  is  a  feeling  of  great 
joy.  The  world  seems  to  be  newly  made.  The  whole 
nature  rises   to   a  higher  level,   and    in  many  cases  (14 


1 84 


THE   CHILD 


and  i8  per  cent)  public  confession  and  testimony  to 
the  power  of  the  divine  spirit  follow. 

6.  Till-  will  is  felt  to  be  wholly  powerless.  The  sub- 
ject is  carried  on  by  a  power  outside  himself.  "Saved 
by  the  grace  of  God"  expresses  his  state  of  mind.  It 
seems  to  be  to  a  large  extent  a  struggle  between  con- 
scious and  unconscious  factors,  between  habits  which 
have  passed  below  the  level  of  attention  and  ideas  which 
are  as  )'et  so  vaguely  felt  as  to  be  indescribable.  It  is 
again,  perhaps,  in  large  part  the  mental  reflection  of 
the  bodily  change — the  opposition  between  the  life 
of  the  individual  and  that  of  the   race. 

Between  the  two  sets  of  forces  the  child's  conscious- 
ness stands  dismayed.  He  feels  himself  as  clay 
moulded  by  forces  far  more  powerful  (ban  he,  forces 
not  only  without  him,  but  within  him  —  how  can  he  feel 
otherw'ise  than  helpless,  and  what  hope  is  there  for 
him  if  not  in  God? 

Let  us  now  take  up  in  more  cKtail  the  studies  of 
actual  conversions. 

In  the  first  place  it  seems  to  be  true  that  the  nature 
of  the  conversion,  for  most  people,  dejjends  to  a  large 
Conversion  ^'^t*^"^  upon  what  is  expected.  Thus  the 
and  denominations     like     the      Methodist,     that 

education,  ^^^^^^y  ^^^^  revival  method  and  teach  the 
necessity  of  a  sudden  and  absolute  turning  from  sin, 
can  show  the  most  remarkable  cases  of  reformation; 
while  those  like  the  Episcopalian,  that  look  for  a 
steady  development  of  the  religious  life,  are  more 
likely  t(j  secure  that. 

Teaching,  imitation,  and  social  pressure  in  other 
ways,  influence  42  per  cent  of  re\i\'al  cases  and  37  per 
cent   of   non-re\i\al    cases.     We  do  not   mean   to  say 


RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL   IDEAS     J^C 

that  they  arc   the  sole   factors,  but  only  that   they  are 
important  ones. 

Allowing,  however,    for  preconceivx'd   expectations, 
we  find  that  many  who   look   for  sudden   conversion, 
and  perhaps  even  desire  and  strive  for  it,  are     conversion 
unable   to   attain    it,    while  others  get  just     andtem- 
what  they  expect.  perament. 

Professor  Coe's  cases  are  not  as  numerous  as  is  desir- 
able, but  he  seems  to  have  been  very  careful  in  collect- 
ing his  material,  so  that  it  can  be  thoroughly  relied  on 
as  far  as  it  goes.  He  finds  that  out  of  sixteen  subjects 
who  expected  conversion  and  were  satisfied,  twelve 
were  in  an  emotional  as  opposed  to  an  intellectual  state 
of  mind;  eight  of  them  had  had  hallucinations  or 
motor  automatisms  of  some  kind,  such  as  involuntary 
laughter  or  song,  and  many  of  them  felt  assured  of 
special  answer  to  prayer. 

In  another  group,  on  the  other  hand,  out  of  twelve 
subjects,  who  expected  conversion  and  were  disap- 
pointed, nine  were  in  an  intellectual  state,  only  one 
had  either  hallucinations  or  motor  automatisms,  and 
very  few  had  direct  answers  to  prayer. 

Under  hypnotic  influence,  the  first  group  are  as  a 
rule  passively  suggestible,  while  the  second  group, 
except  in  one  or  two  cases,  are  suggestible,  but  are 
likely  to  add  to  or  modify  the  suggestions  in  someway. 

Taking  now  those  who  are  converted,  Starbuck 
gives  the  following: 


Circumstances  of  Conversion 

Men 

Women 

Revival  or  camp  meeting 

48  fc 

5 
32 

4 
II 

46^0 
6 

At  home  after  revival 

At  home  alone 

16 

Regular  Church 

25 

Circumstances  not  given 

7 

1 86 


THE   CHILD 


The  motives  of  conversion  have  been  touched  upon 

slightly  already,  in  giving  social  motives  or  objective 

forces,  and  the  sense  of  sin.     Other  motives 

Motives  of         ]      ^>,iter  in.    Egotistic  motives,  such  as  to 
conversion.  °  ' 

gain    heaven,    form    21    per    cent    of    both 

revival  and  non-revival  cases.     These  motives  average 

highest  in  the  earlier  years,  diminishing  up  to  the  age 

of  sixteen,  then  increasing  up  to  eighteen,  and  thence 

declining.     Love  of  God  and  Christ  is  mentioned  as  a 

motive  in  but  2  per  cent  of  the  cases,  while  love  of  a 

moral  ideal  is  given  in  15.     The  latter  motive  steadily 

increases  in  importance  with  the  age  of  the  conversion. 

These  motives  ought  to  determine  the  character  of 

the  new  life,  and  yet  the  percentages  do  not  seem  to 

agree  in  all  cases. 


Motive 

Men 

Women 

Desire  to  help  others 

25% 
43 
36 
48 

5 

25% 
42 

Love  for  others       

Nearness  to  Nature 

32 

Nearness  to  God 

47 

Nearness  to  Christ 

5 

If  love  of  God  enters  so  little  into  conversion,  it 
seems  strange  that  the  feeling  of  nearness  to  Him 
should  be  so  marked  a  feature  of  the  new  life,  unless 
the  desire  for  his  approval  is  really  more  prominent 
before  conv^ersion  than  is  indicated.  Or,  again,  it  may 
be  that  the  mere  feeling  of  relaxation,  or  release  after 
the  straia  of  expectation  is  given  this  meaning. 

Notice  how  small  a  part  is  assigned  to  Christ  in 
these  figures,  obtained  in  nearly  all  cases,  from  ortho- 
dox church  members;  and  yet  Christ  is  the  central  fig- 
ure in  the  scheme  of  justilication  and  redemption. 


RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL   IDEAS 


187 


Gradual 
growth. 


Let  us  now  consider  briefly  the  religious  life  which 
is  a  gradual  growth,  without  the  storm  and  stress  of  con- 
version. Whether  the  dev^elopment  shall  be 
gradual  or  not  is  to  a  large  extent  a  matter 
of  temperament,  but  gradual  growth  is  facil- 
itated by  early  religious  surroundings  and  by  freedom 
to  raise  doubts  and  wisdom  in  answering  them.  In 
such  cases  the  belief  in  God,  Christ,  and  immortality 
play  a  much  more  important  part  than  in  cases  of  sud- 
den conversion.  The  thought  is  not  centered  so 
entirely  upon  self. 

In  cases  where  the  religious  feeling  was  not  aroused 
at  puberty,  some  other  strong  interest  takes  its  place. 
Usually  this  is  the  moral  interest  in  33  per  cent  of 
women  and  43  per  cent  of  men,  but  it  may  be  intellec- 
tual (21  and  32  per  cent),  or  esthetic  (15  and  16  per  cent). 

What  now  are  the  permanent  results?  In  the  cases 
of  gradual  growth,  doubts  are  usually  settled  as  they 
rise,  hence  the  growth  is  as  a  rule  a  part  of  permanence 
character.  ofconver- 

In  cases  of  conversion,  on  the  other  hand, 
there  is  frequently  a  period  of  reaction  and  reconstruc- 
tion of  belief.     The  tables  stand  thus: 


Men 

Result  of 
Conversion 

Revivals 

Age 

Non-Revi- 
vals 

Age 

Relapsed 

48% 
15 

13-7 
17 

24% 
35 

17-5 

Permanent 

i8.7 

Women 

Result  of 
Conversion 

Revivals 

Age 

Non-Revi- 
vals 

Age 

Relapsed 

41% 
14 

12 

14  3 

14% 
17 

16 

Permanent 

15.3 

l88  THE   CHILD 

This  reconstruction  may  be,  and  often  is,  simply  a 
new  int(-:ri)rL-tation  of  religious  beliefs,  a  more  \  ital 
realization  of  the  meaning  of  religion  to  the  individual. 
It  does  not  necessarily  involve  any  break  with  the 
church,  although  the  struggle  is  often  a  severe  one. 
Or  again,  it  may  lead  to  rupture.  This  period  usually 
covers  the  period  from  twenty  to  thirty,  the  time 
when  James  tells  us  that  intellectual  habits  are  being 
formed. 

What,  in  view  of  these  facts,  should  be  the  religious 
training  of  the  child?  All  agree  that  religion  is  not  a 
thing  forced  upon  man  from  the  outside, 
f/aJninr  ^^"^  '^  rather  the  longing  for  unity  with  the 
ideal  self.  It  is  essentially  social — the 
highest  form  of  the  longing  for  a  friend  who  can  per- 
fectly understand  us 

"What  I  could  never  be, 
What  men  ignored  in  me. 
This  was  I  worth  to  God." 

It  Is  fed  and  nourished  by  the  same  source  that 
nourishes  society.  "If  a  man  loves  not  his  brother 
whom  he  has  seen,  how  shall  he  love  God,  whom  he 
has  not  seen?"  How  can  one  attain  to  the  love  of  an 
ideal  personality  or  to  a  belief  in  a  Governor,  a  Judge, 
a  Lawgi\'er,  if  he  does  not  see  the  exidences  of  this 
love  and  law  abcnit  him  in  nature  and  in  man? 

We  shall,  therefore,  agree  emphatically  with  Dr. 
Hall,  in  his  statements  regarding  the  religious  educa- 
tion of  ////A' children.  It  must  begin  in  the  cradle  with 
the  feelings  of  love  and  gratitude  towards  the  mother, 
who  stands  then  in  the  place  of  God.  Reverence, 
obedience,  and   the  whole  list  of  Christian  x'irtues  are 


RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL  IDEAS      x  Sq 

first  exercised  towards  mother  and  father,  and  the  less 

they  are  called  out  in  the  family  life  the  less  moral  and 

religious    capacity  will  the   child    have   in         _  „ 
*^  r  -r  j3p  Hall  on 

later  life.    If  the  mother  and  the  father  make  the  religious 

themselves  slaves    to    the  child's  caprice,  education  of 

,,       ,      ,  /-     1  1  •     children, 

he    will    naturally    look  upon   God    as   his 

factotum.  "As  a  father  pitieth  his  children,"  so  docs 
God.  How  then  if  the  father  is  unwise,  unstable,  gov- 
erned by  moods?  How  shall  he  point  the  child  to  a 
God  worthy  of  worship?  Whatever  our  individual 
belief  may  be,  we  can  not  deny  that  men  do  and  must 
think  of  God  as  having  the  attributes  of  men,  after  an 
anthropomorphic  fashion,  and  as  are  the  men  whom 
men  know,  so  is  their  image  of  God.  Here,  then,  is 
one  place  where  both  teacher  and  parent  can  give 
religious  instruction  by  quickening  the  child's  love 
for  others  and  for  the  ideal. 

Again,  the  child  is  constantly  brought  into  contact 
with  nature  and  with  material  things.     If  he  is  to  con- 
trol them,  he  must  know  and   follow   their 
laws.     Absolute  truth  is  demanded  of  him        iaws.^°  ^ 
in   his  dealings  with    them,    and   absolute 
obedience  to  their  laws.     One  must  be  rather  doubtful 
of    the    advantages    of    unquestioning    obedience    to 
persons,  for  even  the  best  of  persons  is  so  liable  to  error 
that  a  child   may  easily  feel   that  he  is  compelled  by 
brute  force  to  submit  to  caprice.     But  there  can  be  no 
such  possibility  in  following  nature's  laws.     Obedience 
to  principles  can  be  inculcated  there  if  the  teacher  will 
but  grasp  his  opportunity;  and  from  this   it  is  a  short 
step  to  obedience  to  the  moral  law  and  to  God. 

Here  we  get  the  sense  of  God  as  the  God  of  law,  as 
a  force  infinitely  more  stable  and  valuable  than   the 


J  gQ  THE    CHILD 

petty  pcrsonalil\'  of  tlu-  child.  Awe  and  reverence 
enter  lillv  to  tleli\-er  a  child  from  himself,  or  rather 
from  human  nature  as  it  is.  Here  also  the  question 
of  the  le<4"itimacy  of  punishments  finds  a  solution.  If 
the  father  embodies  or  expresses  to  the  child  the  law 
that  he  understands,  the  child  never  rebels  aj^ainst 
punishment.  He  knows  that  it  is  his  due.  Hence  the 
value  of  Spencer's  doctrine,  that  a  jjunishment  should 
be  the  natural  result  of  the  act,  or  as  nearly  so  as  pos- 
sible. 

In  n-i\'ini4"  specific  reli.^ious  instruction,  we  can  not,  if 
we  would,  i)re\ent   a  child  from  forming  mure  or  less 

definite   pictures   of    God,    Christ,    heaven. 
Directing  r   .i       r-     ,.  .1  • 

the  child's  <'^'"'^'  ^<J  "'^i  '^'i'^'  '^^  ^^'i*^'  ^^f  ^he  nrst  things  is 
religious  l^y  emphasize  only  the  (pialities  that  are 
thought.  ,  ,  ^, 

jx-rmanent  and  worthy,      i  here  is  no  reason 

why  a  child  should  picture  heaven  with  streets  of  gold, 
but  he  may  picture  it  as  filled  with  blessed  and  happy 
people. 

Then,  when  the  child  approaches  the  age  of  adoles- 
cence and  conversion,  the  parents  should  take  advan- 
tage of  his  new  sensitiveness  to  religious  and  moral 
truths  to  impress  upon  him  deepl\'  his  unity  with  God 
and  all  good.  The  details  will  necessarily  vary  with 
the  convictions  of  the  parents,  but  the  important  point 
is  that  this  aspect  of  the  child's  nature  shall  be  gi\^en 
its  opportunity  to  flower,  and  yet  not  be  forced  into  a 
premature  bloom.  The  enthusiastic  hero-worship  of 
this  age  can  hardly  be  more  fitly  directed  than  toward 
the  great  religious  leaders,  provided  that  the  bondage 
of  narrow  dogmas  be  not  at  the  same  time  imposed — 
a  bondage  that  is  soon  thrown  off,  as  the  records  of 
backslidin<>s    from    orthodox   conversion    show.      The 


RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT  AND  THEOLOGICAL  IDEAS     JQI 

churches,  except  the  Roman  Catholic,  do  not  as  yet 
appreciate  their  vast  opportunity  of  making  ardent 
converts  among  the  youth  from  twelve  to  sixteen  years 
of  age,  and  the  comparative  difficulty  of  making  con- 
verts afterwards. 

The  religious  sentiment  is  a  feeiing  of  the  unity 
with  a  higher  good,  toward  which  we  strive  and  upon 

which  we  depend.     It  is  universal,  but  its 

.        ^.        ,       .      ,  ^  .  Summary, 

expression    m    theological   systems   varies 

from  century  to  century  and  from  childhood  to  matu- 
rity. The  little  child  accepts  the  faith  of  his  parents 
without  question,  and  modifies  it  so  that  he  can  under- 
stand it,  thus  often  forming  grotesque  combinations. 
The  older  child  begins  to  doubt  and  question.  At 
adolescence  there  is  an  awakening  to  the  importance 
of  religion,  followed  by  a  sudden  conversion  or  a 
gradual  adoption  of  definite  beliefs,  according  to  the 
temperament  and  teaching  of  the  person  concerned. 
In  many  cases,  there  is  a  period  of  backsliding, 
followed  by  a  second  and  permanent  conversion  in 
two  or  three  years.  If  the  conversion  does  not 
occur  before  the  twentieth  year,  it  is  unlikely  to  occur 
at  all. 

Religious  instruction  reflects  the  character  of  these 
periods.  With  the  little  child,  who  does  not  yet  know 
the  abstract  world  of  principle,  it  takes  the  form  of 
teaching  habits  of  good  living  and  loving;  with  the 
adolescent,  the  rousing  of  responsibility,  and  some 
specific  form  of  belief,  leading  to  church  membership. 
In  all  cases,  the  teaching  should  be  such  that  it  seems 
reasonable  to  the  child  as  he  grows  older  and  learns  to 
think  for  himself.  It  must  not  violate  his  sense  of 
justice  or  of  love. 

13 


jg2  THE    CHILD 

REFERENCES 

Allen,  J.  G.      Child  Study  and  Religious  Education.     C.  S.  il/ , 

October,  1S96,  289-293.     (Plea  for  good  S.  S.  teaching.) 
Baldwin,   J.    Mark.     Mental  Developmctti,  Social  and  Ethical 

Interpretation,  pp.  327-357.     N.  Y.,  Macmillan.     §2. 60. 
Barnes,  Earl.     Theological  Life  of  a  California  Child.     Ped.  Setn., 

1S92,  442-443. 
Punishment  as  Seen  by  Children.    I\-d.  Se»i.,Yo\.  III.,  234-45. 
Bergen,  F.  D.      Theological  Development  of  a  Child.     Arena, 

1898,  Vol.  XIX.,  254-266. 
Butler,  N.  M.     Religious  Instruction  in  Education.      Ed.   Rev., 

Dec,  1899,  Vol.  XVIII. ,  425-436.     (Advocates  longer  S.  S. 

sessions  and  paid  teachers.) 
Calkins,    M.    W.      Religious   Consciousness  of   Children.      New 

World,  1S96,  705-718. 
Chrisman,  O.     Religious  Periods  of  Child  Growth.      Educ.  Rev., 

1S98,  Vol.  XVI.,  40-48. 
Religious  Ideas  of  a  Child.     C.  S.  M.,  March,  1898,  516-528. 
Coe,  G.  A.      Morbid  Conscience  of  Adolescents.     Rept.  of  III. 

Soc.for  C.  S.,  October.  1898,  97-108. 
Dynamics  of  Personal  Religion.     Psy.Rev.,  1S99,  484-505. 
Studies  in  Religion.     N.  Y.,  Methodist  Book  Concern.     §1.00. 
Daniels,  A.  II.    The  New  Life.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Oct.,  1893.  Vol. 

VI.,    61-106.       (Significance    of     puberty    with     primitive 

peoples.     Connection  between  adolescence  and  conversion.) 
Gould,  H.  M.     Child  Fetiches.     Ped.  Sent.,  1S9S,  421-425. 
Hugh,   D.   D.      Animism  of  Children.      A'.    IV.   Mo.,  June  and 

October,  1899,  450-453,  7i-74- 
Leuba,  J.  IT.     Psychology  of  Religious  Phenomena.     Ant.  Jour. 

of  Psy.,  Vol.  VII  ,  309-385. 
McMurry,  Lida  B.     Children's  Moral  and  Religious  Conceptions. 

Rept.  III.  Soc.for  C.  S.,  Vol.  II.,  23,  24. 
Marshall,  II.  R.     Religious  Instinct.     Mind,  N.  S..  1897,  40-5S. 
Montgomery,  C.     Religious  Element  in   Formation  of  Character. 

Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1899,  121-127. 
Richter,  Jean    Paul.     Levana.     See    Index.      (Religious  educa- 
tion,  commands,  punishments,  moral  education  of  boys.) 
Starbuck,    E.    D.      Study  of  Conversion.     Am.  Jour.  /'>)'.,  Vol 

VI 11.,  26S-308. 
Psychology  of  Religion.     N.  Y.,  Scribner.     §1.50. 


CHAPTER  X 

Conception  of  Good  and  Evil 

1.  Tell  the  story  of  Jennie,  and  the  box  of  paints 
(see  section  on  Remedial  Agencies  in  this  chapter), 
and  find  what  punishment  the  children  observa- 
would  give.  *^o°«- 

2.  Ask  the  children  whether  it  is  "fair"  for  a  teacher 
to  punish  the  entire  class  for  something  that  was  done 
by  a  member  of  the  class,  but  by  which  one  she  does 
not  know. 

3.  To  test  the  sense  of  property  rights,  ask  the  chil- 
dren: "If  you  found  a  sum  of  money  on  the  school 
doorstep,  what  would  you  do  with  it?"  The  amount 
found  should  be  varied  in  the  different  grades.  It 
should  not  be  too  large  for  the  child  to  understand 
what  he  can  buy  with  it,  or  so  small  that  he  does  not 
think  it  necessary  to  seek  its  owner.  The  place  where 
it  is  found — the  school  doorstep — shows  that  probably 
the  owner  can  easily  be  found.  A  different  set  of 
answers  would  be  obtained  if  it  were  found  in  the 
street. 

"Are  there  good  and  bad  children?"  asks  Beremini, 
and  his  answer  is:  "No.  There  are  individual  san- 
guine,  choleric,   mild,    active,    quiet,    etc., 

ry-,         1        1        1  •  r  1     No  knowl- 

temperaments.      The    leadership    ot    moral    edge  at  first. 

conviction,   however,   is   lacking,    for    it    is 
the    evidence    of   a   gradually   developing    factor    not 
yet  attained   in  social   life.     To   the  child,    then,   all 

193 


194 


THE   CHILD 


things  arc  possible,  good  and  bad,  and  the  thousand 
and  one  interxening  stages;  only  dispositions  and  ten- 
dencies are  present  and  the  results  are  whatever  comes 
of  the  environment."  The  more  actual  children  are 
studied,  the  more  e\-ident  does  it  become  that  the 
child's  first  acts  are  guided  by  certain  instinctive  ten- 
dencies and  their  pleasing  or  painful  results,  without 
any  sense  of  right  or  wrong.  A  little  baby  is  neither 
good  nor  bad,  neither  selfish  nor  unselfish.  He  cries 
and  draws  away  from  pain;  he  laughs  and  le-aches  out 
toward  pleasure,  with  no  thought  of  how  others  are 
affected  by  his  acts,  or  of  any  further  consequence  to 
himself.  Only  through  the  long  training  of  childhood, 
culminating  at  adolescence  in  a  fuller  ripening  of  the 
social  sense,  does  he  come  to  acquire  true  morality. 

Society — a  divine  or  a  human  companion  and  judge — 
is  essential  for  the  growth  of  the  moral  sense.  In  the 
Society  a         actions  and  reactions  between  himself  and 

force  in  the  others,  a  child  learns  both  his  limitations 
development  .  ,,.,,.         ,,  ,  ,  , 

of  the  moral     and  his  possibilities,     thou  shalt  not,     and 

sense.  "thou  shalt." 

The  morality  of  a  child  accordingly  reflects,  mirror- 
like,  the  society  into  which  he  grows,  as  modified  by 
his  own  instincts.  The  Chinese  boy  adopts  his 
national  morality  as  the  American  boy  does  his.  If 
the  two  were  interchanged  in  the  cradle,  their  moral 
standaids  would  also,  in  large  measure,  be  inter- 
changed, and  the  American  child  might  so  outrage  his 
nationality  as  to  worship  his  ancestors! 

A  child's  attitude  toward  social  institutions  at  the 
start,  then,  is  one  of  total  ignorance,  which  soon 
changes  to  puzzled  ignorance  when  he  is  checked  in 
doing  what   he  wants;  this  confusion  is   followed  by  a 


CONCEPTION   OF   GOOD    AND   EVIL 


195 


vague  understanding  of  a  superior  force  of  some  sort, 
with  rebellion  or  obedience,  according  to  his  disposi- 
tion, and  his  belief  in  the  beneficence  of  this  force. 
To  trace  the  growth  of  this  understanding  in  certain 
respects  is  the  object  of  this  chapter. 

There  is  an  English  proverb  that  "possession  is  nine 
points  of  the  law,"  and  another  that  "finders  are  keep- 
ers." Little  children  tend  instinctively  attitude 
to  act  upon  these  prov^erbs.  The  one  who  toward 
first  gets  a  thing  has  the  right  to  it  against  possession, 
all  others;  and,  with  the  youngest  children,  this  feeling 
of  ownership  sets  aside  any  previous  ownership.  The 
little  child  does  not  make  the  distinction  of  thine  and 
mine.  "Mine"  is  whatever  he  wants,  and  when  he 
does  not  want  it,  he  may  or  may  not  feel  a  sense  of 
ownership.  With  kindergarten  children  the  plea  that 
they  "had  it  first"  seems  to  override  the  argument  "It's 
my  turn,"  especially  if  the  turn  is  something  left  over 
from  the  day  before.  There  is  a  tendency  to  start 
each  day  with  a  new  account  of  rights. 

The  right  given  by  possession  is  illustrated  very  well 

by  the  boys  on  the  McDonough  Farm,  near  Baltimore. 

This  group  of  boys  is  to  a  large  extent  self- 

•  T-1/I..U  -J        J     Ownership 

governing.       Ihe     first     boys     considered    on  the 

themselves    all    equally   legatees    of    Mr.    McDonough 

,  Boys'  Farm. 

McDonough,   and   therefore    having   equal 

rights.  Gradually  a  system  of  ownership  grew  up,  own- 
ership of  squirrels'  and  birds'  nests,  and  of  land  which 
rabbits  and  musk-rats  frequented,  etc.  Ownership  was 
conferred  by  the  discovery  of  a  squirrel's  nest,  and 
the  tacking  of  the  discoverer's  name  on  the  tree.  It 
lasted  for  the  season.  No  other  boy  had  a  right 
thereafter  to   touch    that    nest,   and   was    punished    if 


196 


THE    CHILD 


found  doing  so.  In  the  case  of  rabbit  and  musk-rat 
land,  the  ownership  was  acquired  by  setting  a  trap. 
The  huid  for  a  certain  distance  about  the  trap  then 
belonged  to  the  owner  for  the  season.  But  a  bright 
boy  realized  that  if  he  left  his  trap  in  the  same  place 
through  the  year,  he  would  \)c.  the  first  at  the  opening 
of  the  new  season,  and  hence  ownership  of  rabbit  and 
musk-rat  land  became  practicallx-  permanent.  On  leav- 
ing the  school  a  boy  could  will  or  sell  his  trap  to 
another  boy,  and  thus  inheritance  came  in— but  all 
based  primarily  on  the  first  possession.  We  find  just 
the  same  condition  in  opening  new  lands — forcible 
possession  gives  ownership,  and  only  too  often  gives 
it  even  where  there  is  a  native  race  already  in  posses- 
sion. The  Ixiln'  in  clamoring  to  hold  what  he  has  by  any 
means  grasped,  is  only  repeating  the  history  of  the  race. 
When  a  right  is  in  dispute,  or  a  disagreeable  role  is 
to    be    taken    by    some    child,    the    decision     may    be 

,^^.^    ,  thrown  back  ui:)on  some  reason  or  custom, 

Attitude  ' 

toward  or  if  there  is  no  such  precedent,  upon  some 

chance.  form  of  chance.     The  most  common  illus- 

tration of  the  last  is  in  the  counting-out  rhymes.  The 
origin  of  these  survivals  of  magical  incantations 
which  were  designed  to  bring  to  light  a  guilty  person 
shows  even  now,  in  that  the  person  who  is  "It"  usually 
has  the  least  desirable  part  in  the  game. 

In    the  chapter    on     Imagination    we    have    already 
shown  how  a  child  may  invent  a  lie  in  order  to  escape 

.^^..    ,  from    an    unpleasant    situation,   just  as    he 

Attitude  ^  _    ,  '    ■' 

toward  invents  means  of  obtaining  bread  and  jam. 

the  truth.  Th^Tt;  is  in  this  at  first  no  perception  of  the 
moral  wrong,  but  only  the  instinctive  shrinking  from 
pain.      To   cure   the   child,    therefore,   we   must  bring 


CONCEPTION    OF    GOOD    AND    EVIL 


197 


about  two  things:  (l)  Make  him  brave  enough  to  take 
the  consequences  of  any  act  of  his;  and  (2)  make  him 
realize  the  self-contradiction  and  doubleness  involved 
in  a  lie.  Sometimes  it  is  said  that  a  child  should  never 
be  punished  when  he  confesses  any  wrongdoing. 
Such  a  course  must  breed  in  a  child  a  belief  that  there 
is  no  natural  penalty  for  wrong,  and  must  end  in  more 
or  less  contempt  of  the  law  that  can  constantly  be  over- 
ridden if  only  the  transgression  is  admitted.  Rather, 
so  high  a  fearlessness  and  honor  should  be  cultivated 
that  a  child  who  has  done  wrong  shall  present  himself 
for  punishment. 

Plato  says  somewhere  that  if  man  did  but  know  his 
highest  good,  he  who  had  broken  the  law  would  hasten 
to  the  judge  for  condemnation  and  punishment  as  a 
sick  man  does  to  his  physician  tor  medicine.  So  in 
all  our  dealings  with  a  child,  even  if  pain  is  needful, 
every  act  and  word  should  declare  to  him  that  our 
only  purpose  is  to  heal  his  moral  sickness,  and  to 
increase  his  moral  health.  We  all  know  that  children 
can  be  very  brave  under  the  physical  pain  inflicted  by 
a  physician  if  they  understand  the  necessity  for  it. 
Surely  they  will  be  no  less  brave  under  the  pain  result- 
ing from  their  wrongdoing,  if  there  also  they  see  the 
need  of  it.  Lies  offer  little  temptation  to  a  child  who 
holds  this  attitude  toward  pain.  But  most  of  us  are 
too  cowardly  ourselves  to  inculcate  true  courage  into 
our  children.  We  ourselves  prevaricate  and  falsify 
under  slight  temptation,  and  we  can  expect  nothing 
else  from  our  children. 

In  all  probability  there  is  at  first  no  intention  of 
inflicting  pain  in  bullying  and  fighting.  Burk  believes 
that    they  are   survivals  of   acts   useful    to   an  earlier 


jgg  THE   CHILD 

civilization.     That  is,  they  arc  instinctive,  and  have  no 

consciously  defined  purpose  back  of  them.     Probably 

curiosity  to  see  how  the  victim  will  act  also 
Teasing,  .  .       ,  •         ,  r 

bullying.         enters  in,  as  it  does  in   the  case  of  many 

cruelty.  apparently  cruel  acts.     In  such  cases  there 

is  a  double  remedy.  First,  the  child's  sympathy  should 
be  aroused  for  the  victim  by  leading  him  to  imagine 
himself  in  the  other's  place,  or,  if  he  can  not  imagine 
it,  by  actually  putting  him  there.  A  little  bullying  and 
teasing  of  the  bully,  accompanied  by  remarks  to  show 
that  the  pain  he  suffers  now  is  only  the  pain  he  himself 
has  inflicted  on  others,  will  often  cure  him.  In  the  sec- 
ond place,  replace  the  bullying,  teasing  and  cruelty  by 
other  acts,  if  possible  by  kind  acts,  toward  the  victim; 
but  if  that  is  not  possible,  by  constant  occupation  in 
work  and  games  where  there  is  no  opportunity  to 
indulge  this  propensity.  As  to  fighting,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  a  fair  fight  leaves  any  bad-irforal  effects,  and 
does  not  rather  square  up  grievances  in  the  most  satis- 
factory way  to  the  persons  cohcerned.  There  are,  of 
course,  boys  who  will  brood  over  a  defeat  in  a  fight  and 
will  be  induced  by  it  to  use  underhand  means  the  next 
time,  but  such  a  disposition  is  sure  to  come  out  in  other 
directions  also,  and  must  be  combated  all  along  the  line. 
The  only  way  of  knowing  whether  a  boy  has  been  bene- 
fited by  a  fight  is  to  see  how  he  feels  toward  his  oppo- 
nent. The  parent's  action  can  be  safely  guided  by  that. 
The  moral  ideas  of  children  are  concerned  chiefly 
with  concrete  acts.  A  good  girl  or  boy  is  usually  one 
who   minds   the  mother.     At  a  great  dis- 

Thegood         tance  after  obedience  comes  truthfulness, 
and  tne  bad. 

29  per  cent  as   against   54  per  cent.      Is   it 

not  a  sad  commentary  upon  us,  that  we  should  impress 


/ 


<i 


CONCEPTION    OF    GOOD    AND    EVIL  I  Qg 

obedience  upon  children  so  much  more  diligently  than 
truthfulness? 

In  naming  moral  qualities  that  they  would  prefer  in 
a  chum,  however,  the  order  stands  thus:  kindness  and 
good  nature,  justice,  truthfulness,  constancy,  unsel- 
fishness, affection,  modesty,  obedience,  courage. 

We  shall  discuss  the  subject  of  custom  at  greater 
length  under  Imitation.  Here  we  wish  only  to  point 
out   that   to  the  very  little  child  the  right  Attitude 

thing  is  the  customary  thing.      He  knows  toward 

nothing  of  why  he  should  or  should  not  do  ^^^  °™" 

this;  he  simply  accepts  the  fact  that  others  do  it,  and 
so  he  does  it.  The  earliest  moral  education  thus  con- 
sists in  forming  good  habits  through  imitation.  Such 
training  is  of  course  incomplete  unless  it  finally 
reenforces  the  habits  or  custom  by  reason,  guided  by 
a  high  moral  ideal. 

With  little  children  law  is  a  personal  thing— the 
command  of  the  parent  or  teacher;  but  as  they  grow 
older  they  become  conscious  that  the  par- 
ents also  obey,  not  the  judge  or  the  police-  fo"ardlaw. 
man,  but  something  back  of  him,  some- 
thing that  is  called  the  law.  So  a  child  develops  the 
idea  of  an  impersonal  principle  that  applies  to  all 
men,  and  gives  obedience  to  it  the  more  readily  as 
his  own  life  is  regulated  by  reasonable  customs. 

The  development  of  this  sense  of  law  is  shown  in 
the  penalties  children  of  different  ages  would  attach 
to  a  wrong  act.  At  seven,  89  per  cent  of  the  children 
punish  regardless  of  the  legal  penalties;  at  twelve 
29  per  cent  give  the  legal  penalty,  and  at  sixteen  74  per 
cent.  The  great  change  occurring  at  adolescence  marks 
once  more  the  child's  mental  and  moral  awakening. 


200  THE    CHILD 

In  takinj4'  up  the  discussion  of  how  to  cure  children's 
faults  and  failinj^s,  we  enter  upon  the  most  vexed  sub- 
Remedial        j'-'^t  in  education.     All  sorts  of  opinions  are 

agencies;         rife,  from   the  theory  that  all  children  are 
punishment,       ,  ,  ,     '  ,  .... 

ciiiids  always  good,  to  the  one  that  origmal  sin 

attitude,  makes  almost  the  sum  total  of  a  child.     To 

preserve  sanity,  and  to  discuss  neither   the  angels  nor 

the   imps,  hut   the   children  whom   we   play  with  every 

day,  is  the  only  object  here. 

It  may  throw  some  light  upon  the  subject  if  we  first 
see  what  punishment  children  would  themselves  inflict 
and  consider  just. 

Miss  Schallenberger  told  Lwd  thousand  children  from 
six  to  sixteen  years  old  this  story:  "One  afternoon, 
six-year-old  Jennie's  mother  went  out  to  call,  leaxing 
Jennie  playing  with  her  box  of  paints.  After  a  while 
Jennie  went  into  the  parlor,  and  saw  there  some  nice  new 
chairs.  She  exclainud,  'Oh,  I  will  paint  all  these  chairs, 
and  mamma  will  be  so  pleased!'  When  her  mamma  came 
home  she  found  her  chairs  allspoiled.  Ifyouhadbeen 
her  mamma,  what  would  you  have  done  to  Jennie?" 

The  punishments  assigned  fell  into  three  classes. 

I.  Tlie  principle  of  reprisal.  Jennie  gave  her  mother 
pain,  and  so  she  must  suffer  pain.  The  little  children 
advocated  this  far  more  than  the  older  ones,  for  they 
thought  only  of  the  act,  not  of  the  motive.  At  six 
only  23  children  speak  of  Jrnnic:'s  ignorance;  at 
twelve,  322,  and  at  sixteen,  654.  -So  also,  none  of  the 
six-year-olds  wouKl  tell  Jennie  why  she  was  wrong;  at 
twelve,  181  do,  and  at  sixteen,  751.  The  specific  pun- 
ishment assigned  is  usually  a  whipping,  but  this  les- 
sens from  1, 102  out  of  2,000  at  six,  to  763  at  eleven,  and 
185  at  sixteen. 


CONCEPTION    OF   GOOD   AND   EVIL  201 

2.  Prevention  by  fear  or  terror.  None  of  the  six- 
year-olds  would  threaten;  39  at  twelve  and  85  at  fifteen 
would.  None  of  the  six-year-olds  would  make  her 
promise  not  to  do  it  again;  15  at  twelve  and  35  at  fif- 
teen would.  Notice  how  very  small  this  class  is  both 
as  to  threats  and  promises;  and  yet  there  are  no  more 
common  methods  than  these  two  in  dealing  with  chil- 
dren. 

3.  Reform.  As  we  have  already  said,  explanation 
of  why  Jennie's  act  was  wrong  increases  steadily  up  to 
the  age  of  sixteen.  The  idea  of  reform  becomes  more 
prominent,  but  even  at  sixteen  it  is  not  as  prominent 
as  the  idea  of  revenge  is  at  six.  The  older  children 
are  more  merciful  than  the  younger. 

Now  consider  in  connection  with  inis  the  remi- 
niscences by  young  people  between  seventeen  and 
twenty-one  years  old,  given  by  Street,  of  punishments 
that  did  good  or  harm 

Under  punishments  that  did  good  we  find  the  follow- 
ing list:  Sixteen  were  helped  by  whippings,  of  which 
they  speak  with  gratitude;  eleven  by  with-     just  or 
drawal  of  some  privilege;  six  by  talks;  five     unjust pun- 
by  bemg  left  alone  a  time;  four  by  scolding. 

Harm  was  done  to  eight  by  whippings;  to  eight  by 
undeserved  punishments;  to  four  by  sarcasm;  to  four 
by  talks;  to  three  by  forced  apologies;  to  two  by  pub- 
lic punishments. 

These  numbers  are  small,  and  must  be  supplemented 
by  Barnes,  who  collected  2,000  papers  describing  just 
and  unjust  punishments,  from  children  between  seven 
and  sixteen  years  old.  Two  and  a  half  per  cent  of  these 
2,000  children  can  not  recall  any  just  punishment  that 
they  have  received,  but  we  are  left  ignorant  of  their 


202  "THE  CHILD 

character  and  surroundings;  25  per  cent  can  not  recall 
an  unjust  punishment;  42  per  cent  of  those  who  think 
punishment  just,  can  give  no  reason,  and  12  per  cent 
think  that  it  does  them  good,  although  they  do  not 
see  how.  In  such  cases,  there  seems  to  be  an  unques- 
tioning acceptance  of  custom.  Where  reasons  are 
given,  the  most  common  idea  is  that  of  atonement,  the 
expiation  of  an  offense  by  pain. 

Of  those  who  felt  some  one  punishment  unjust,  41 
per  cent  gave  as  a  reason  that  they  were  innocent  of 
the  offense;  27  per  cent  that  they  could  not  help  it, 
forgot,  did  not  know  better,  did  not  intend  to,  etc.; 
19  per  cent  admitted  the  offense,  but  thought  the  pun- 
ishment too  severe,  due  to  prejudice,  etc.  Eleven  per 
cent  maintained  that  the  act  for  which  they  were  pun- 
ished was  right,  and  79  per  cent  threw  all  responsi- 
bility on  the  one  who  punished  them.  Injustice  is,  on 
the  whole,  charged  about  equally  against  parents  and 
teachers,  but  as  children  grow  older,  they  talk  less 
about  home  matters. 

The  ideas  of  what  punishments  are  just  and  what 
are  unjust,  are  very  vagu(.',  even  among  the  older  chil- 
dren. The  forms  about  which  opinions  commonly 
differ  are:  scolding,  confinement,  and  whipping.  Six 
hundred  and  eighty-one  whippings  are  called  just,  as 
against  493  unjust. 

Finally,  the  results  of  investigations  to  determine 
whether  children  admit  the  justice  of  making  the 
innocent  suffer  with  and  for  the  guilty  are  rather  sur- 
prising. This  case  was  presented  to  nearly  2,000  chil- 
dren from  seven  to  sixteen  years  old:  "Some  children 
in  a  class  were  bad,  but  the  teacher  could  not  find  out 
who  they  were,  and   so  she  kept   the  whole   class  after 


CONCEPTION   OF    GOOD    AND    EVIL,  203 

school.  Was  she  just?"  Out  of  these  1914  children, 
82  per  cent  considered  her  justified,  and  the  percentage 
was  nearly  the  same  for  all  ages. 

The  reasons  given  for  this  decision  were  various. 
Forty-nine  per  cent  claimed  that  it  was  just  because 
the  class  would  not  tell  on  the  guilty  ones,  evidently 
believing  that  the  class  as  a  whole  is  at  least  partly 
responsible  for  the  good  behavior  of  each  member. 
Sixteen  per  cent  said  that  the  class  was  bad;  10 
per  cent,  that  the  teacher  did  not  know  the  guilty 
ones  and  must  punish  some  one;  5  per  cent,  that  it 
was  a  sure  way  of  punishing  the  offenders,  and  4  per 
cent  that  it  would  prevent  a  repetition  of  the  offense. 
The  feeling  that  the  class  should  cooperate  with  the 
teacher  in  keeping  order  increases  to  over  50  per  cent 
after  the  age  of  ten. 

How  then,  do  children  feel   towards   punishments? 

1.  Little  children  are  much  more  prone  than  older 
ones  to  consider  only  the  act,  and  not  the 

motive;  I0  punish  for  reprisal;  to  inflict  Summary, 
physical  pain;  to  give  no  reasons. 

2.  At  no  age  do  children  consider  threats  and  prom- 
ises of  much  importance. 

3.  Practically  all  childrer^  accept  most  punishments 
as  just;    but  many  consider  some  one  or  a  few  unjust. 

4.  What  is  just,  is  very  vague  and  is  probably  almost 
the  same  as  what  is  customary,  especially  with  the 
younger  children.  Under  unjust  punishments,  for 
instance,  violation  of  custom,  either  by  punishing  the 
innocent  or  helpless  child,  or  by  exacting  an  unusually 
severe  penalty,  cov^ers  nearly  all  the  cases. 

5.  The  most  common  punishment  is  whipping  or 
spanking.     Among  children  of  all  ages,  681  whippings 


204 


THE    CHILD 


were  considered  just,  as  njrainst  493  unjust.  As  far 
as  these  records  go,  children  do  not  seem  to  feel  that 
there  is  any  greater  indignity  in  a  whipping  than  in 
any  other  form  of  punishment. 

6.  I\Iost  children  admit  the  justice,  though  on 
various  grounds,  of  punishing  a  class  for  the  misbe- 
havior of  some  unknown  member. 

What  conclusions  may  fairly  be  drawn,  as  to  the  best 
forms  of  punishment?  This  raises  the  whole  question 
of  what  agencies  should  and  what  should 
tramln  "°^  ^^"^  employed  to  secure  right  feeling  and 

action,  assuming  that  a  child  does  act  and 
feel  wrongly.  Such  agencies  may  be  divided  into 
three  classes:  (i)  the  natural  results  of  the  child's  act; 
(2)  moral  suasion:  (3)  punishment  or  fear  in  some 
form. 

I.  Pu/iishme?it  as  a  Logical  Result.  Spencer  formu- 
lated the  doctrine  that  the  reasonable  punishment  of  a 
wrong  act  is  its  own  logical  result,  and  that  the  pun- 
ishment given  by  parents  or  teachers  should  simulate 
this  natural  one  as  far  as  possible.  The  theory  is 
excellent  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  there  are  many  wrong 
acts  in  which  the  consecjuences  are  so  far  removed  that 
the  child  can  not  of  himseVf  see  the  connection;  and 
there  arc  others  where  the  effect  for  the  time  being 
is  slight,  and  nut  painful;  and  there  are  ^till  others  in 
which  deformity  or  death  would  result.  As  an  exam- 
ple of  the  first  we  may  take  the  habit  of  lunching  three 
or  four  times  between  meals;  of  the  third,  careless 
playing  with  a  sharp  knife.  We  can  not,  in  any  such 
cases,  leave  the  child  to  learn  by  the  results,  and  so  we 
supplement  Nature  by  the  second  method — moral 
suasion. 


CONCEPTION    OF    GOOD    AND    EVIL,  205 

2.  Moral  Suasion.  Under  this  head  falis  all  discus- 
sion of  moral  questions,  whctluM-it  is  the  talking  over  of 
some  past  offense  or  the  warning  against  some  danger. 

Here  also  there  is  much  difference  of  opinion  as  to 
the  value  of  discussing  moral  (juestions.  More  than  a 
few  high-school  teachers  assert  that  talking  does  only 
harm,  because  it  hardens  children  and  makes  them 
hypocrites.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  some  direct 
testimony  from  boys  showing  that  they  were  greatly 
helped  at  a  critical  time  by  a  friendly  talk. 

It  is  possible  here,  as  in  everything  else,  to  approach 
a  child  in  such  a  way  that  a  discussion  will  only 
harden  him,  but  surely  we  can  not  assert  that  a  kindly, 
fair,  and  reasonable  presentation  of  a  moral  question, 
with  opportunity  on  the  child's  part  for  reasonable 
objections,  will  either  harden  him  or  make  him  hypo- 
critical. He  must  have  had  sad  experiences  with 
other  adults  if  this  is  the  effect  upon  him. 

The  writer  believes,  on  the  other  hand,  that  there  is 
serious  danger  in  leaving  a  child  to  form  his  own  opin- 
ions of  right  and  wrong.  He  has  not  the  ability  to 
generalize  with  certainty,  or  the  experience  upon 
which  to  base  a  correct  judgment,  and  it  is  our  duty  to 
supplement  his  defects  without  forcing  our  opinions 
down  his  throat.  This  teaching  is  not  best  done  by 
formal  instruction,  but  in  the  evening  or  Sunday  talks 
that  every  wise  mother  has  with  her  children.  At  such 
a  time,  specific  examples— this  time  when  John  got 
angry,  and  that  one  when  Mary  told  the  fib — will 
come  up  of  themselves,  and  can  be  seen  in  their  true 
light  by  the  children.  Such  talks  show  the  children 
where  they  must  learn  self-control  and  make  them  feel 
that  all  the  family  are  helping  them. 


2o6  '^^^   CHILD 

But  the  Importance  of  kindness  and  gentleness  in 
doing  this,  and  of  not  forcing  discussion  must  be 
insisted  upon.  To  force  children  to  talk  over  their 
sins,  or  to  listen  to  moral  platitudes,  does  have  the  bad 
effect  which  some  teachers  dread. 

3.  PunisJiment  or  Fear.  When,  however,  the  natural 
punishment  is  no  deterrent,  and  when  discussion  and 
argument  have  been  exhausted,  is  any  resource  left  to 
the  instructor  or  parent  but  an  appeal  to  fear  in  some 
form?  Let  it  be  assumed  that  the  action  is  evidently 
a  wrong  one,  like  telling  a  lie,  and  that  the  lies  are  not 
told  from  fear,  but  to  get  some  supposed  advantage. 
The  child  is  a  persistent  liar,  let  us  say.  We  will  admit 
at  once  either  that  the  child  is  abnormal,  or  that  his 
previous  training  has  been  seriously  wrong;  but  still, 
here  he  is,  a  persistent  liar,  on  whom  all  our  reasons 
have  been  employed  without  effect.  Some  hopeful 
enthusiasts  maintain  that  there  are  no  such  children, 
but  they  do  not  count  for  much  in  dealing  with  prac- 
tical questions.  What  are  we  to  do  with  this  child, 
if  we  do  not  punish  him,  and  inspire  him  with  a  fear  of 
lying  by  making  him  realize  vividly  its  bad  results? 

Punishment  should  be  the  /^5/ resort,  but  if  all  other 
measures  fail,  then  it  may  justly  be  employed.  It  is, 
as  Hyde  says,  a  moral  vaccination  in  such  cases,  a 
slight  sickness,  to  ward  off  a  far  more  dangerous  one. 
What  the  punishment  shall  be,  in  cases  where  there  is 
no  natural  penalty,  must  depend  very  much  upon  the 
nature  of  the  child,  and  upon  the  punishment  inflicted 
upon  his  playmates.  An  unusual  punishment  is  far 
more  dreadful  than  a  customary  one,  even  if  it  be  in 
itself  lighter.  The  evidence  obtained  from  children 
themselves  seems  to  show  that  they  do  not,  as  a  rule, 


CONCEPTION   OF   GOOD   AND   EVIL 


207 


look  upon  corporal  punishment  with  the  same  horror 
that  their  elders  do.  This  is  doubtless  due  in  part  to 
its  being  customary,  and  in  part  to  their  feeling  of 
personal  dignity  not  being  so  highly  developed.  Con- 
finement may  inflict  more  pain  than  a  whipping,  or  the 
reverse  may  be  the  case. 

The  point  is  always,  that  a  parent  or  teacher  should 
know  what  form  of  punishment  may  best  reach  the 
child;  that  he  should  not  inflict  too  severe  a  penalty, 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  too  light  a  one;  and  that  he 
should  impose  the  penalty,  not  in  anger,  but  in  all 
fairness  of  mind. 

If  a  child  does  not  yield  to  mild  punishment,  he  lays 
himself  open  to  more  severity,  and  if  he  continues 
may  be  classed  finally  as  a  subject  for  a  reformatory. 

The  discussion,  so  far,  seems  to  have  been  based  on 
the   assumption    that   children   are   naturally   bad,  and 
that  punishment  is  an  essential  part  of  edu- 
cation.   We  can  not,  indeed,  deny  that  there      Preventive 
'  '  J  measures, 

are  some  unfortunates  in  whom  the  heredi- 
tary tendencies  to  crime  need  slight  encouragement  to 
come  to  a  head.  But  such  cases  are  few  as  compared 
with  the  great  number  of  children  whose  slight  devia- 
tions from  right  can  be  easily  turned  back.  The  pre- 
vention of  wrong  action  is  a  far  more  important  branch 
of  practical  morality  than  its  correction. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  once  said,  wittily  and  wisely, 

that  if  he  could  but  be  born  right  the  first  time  he 

would    be  willing  to  take  his  chances  on 

the    Second    Birth.      Modern   Christianity      !J^'\?„^ 

-'        conaitions. 

marks    its    sense  of    the  relation  between 
the   physical  and  moral,  by  sending    medical  mission- 
aries to  the   heathen  and  visiting  nurses   to  the  poor  of 
14 


2o8  "^"^  CHILD 

the  slums.  U  has  hcfii  abundantly  proved  that 
the  nioral  tone  is  somewhat  lowered  by  fatigue  and 
that  the  habitual  criminal  usually  has  some  bodily 
defects.  The  first  thing  necessary,  therefore,  for  a 
healthy  moral  nature  is  a  health}'  body.  The  moral 
education  of  a  child  begins  even  before  the  marriage 
of  his  parents,  in  their  cultivation  of  right  habits  of 
living. 

Everything  that  contributes  toward  making  the  child 
well-born,  physically,  and  toward  keeping  him  so,  is 
a  factor  in  his  moral  ethication.  Here,  and  here  alone, 
is  the  justification  for  the  expenditure  of  the  best 
thought  and  energy  upon  the  science  of  hygiene, 
including  cooking.  Such  matters  as  the  healthiest 
food  for  a  meal  and  the  healthiest  way  of  cooking  it, 
the  clothing,  and  the  ventilation  of  the  house,  assume 
from  this  standpoint  the  aspect  of  important  moral 
duties.  The  child  who  is  born  healthy  and  kept 
health}'  by  good  food,  good  air,  and  good  clothing  has 
the  basis  of  a  sound  moralit}'. 

The  struggle  between  right  and  wrong  occurs  in  most 

of  us  because  our  feelings  arc  opposed  to  our  duty  or 

our  reason,   and    it  could  be    in   large   part 

^°°*^.  transferred   to  a  witler    sijhere,   if  we   had 

breediug.  _  _       i  ' 

been  properl}'  trained  in  small  matters. 
It  is  pitiable  to  find  a  child  of  ten  or  eleven  }'ears 
constantly  disciplinc:d  for  slight  discourtesies,  for 
indiscriminate  eating  at  meals  and  between  meals, 
and  for  cruelty  to  \\eak  things.  His  moral  struggles 
at  this  age  should  come  in  the  resistance  of  temptation 
to  acti\e  wrongdoing.  Such  a  condition  is  usually 
the  fault  of  the  parent,  who  neglected  these  matters 
when   the   child  was  little.     Frtjui  the   ver}'  beginning 


CONCEPTION  OF  GOOD  AND  EVIL 


209 


of  life,  oiih'  courteous  tones,  oestures,  and  acts  should 
surround  the  child,  and  be  exj)ected  of  him,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Good  breeding,  which  includes  all 
the  lesser  moralities,  should  be  so  habitual  as  to  be 
unconscious.  Then  a  child  can  turn  his  attention 
entirely  to  the  more  serious  moral  questions  that  each 
of  us  must  some  time  decide. 

In  the  decision  of  these  cjuestions,  a  child's  greatest 
safeguard,  especially  between  ten  and  eighteen  years 
of  age,  lies  in  a  close  friendship  with  some 
older  person,  parent,  teacher  or  friend.  "®°  ^  ^^' 
Such  a  friendship  brings  about  naturally  the  free  dis- 
cussion of  serious  moral  problems  and  allows  a  child  to 
receive  with  an  open  mind  the  opinions  of  his  elders. 
Both  for  the  prevention  and  the  correction  of  evil  tend- 
encies such  a  relation  is  of  the  greatest  value.  Parents 
should,  therc'fore,  make  e\ery  effort  to  retain  the  con- 
fidence of  their  children,  and  teachers  should  consider 
the  securing  of  that  confidence  as  important  as  their 
class  teachings. 

The  influence  of  good  books,  music,  and  pictures 
must  not  be  omitted,  although  probably  they  have  not 
as  much  influence  upon  most  of  us  as  our  friendships. 
All  these  means,  it  must  be  understood,  are  but  sub- 
sidiary to  the  great  end  of  developing  high  ideals  and 
noble  ambitions  in  the  child  by  precept  and  example. 
A  morality  that  is  merely  habitual  is  better  than  none, 
but  is  only  the  basis  of  a  morality  that  is  shaped  and 
modeled  by  the  power  of  a  living,  glorious  devotion 
to  the  highest  aims.  The  parent  or  the  teacher  who  can 
by  any  means  inspire  a  child  with  a  love  of  the  good, 
the  beautiful,  and  the  true,  with  the  ability  to  see 
them  in  the  lives  about  him,  and  wMth  a  willingness  to 


2  lO  THE   CHILD 

sacrifice  himself  for  their  attainment  in  however 
humble  a  form,  has  clone  the  utmost  that  one  human 
being  can  do  for  another. 

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VIII.,  157-158. 
Wiggin,  Kate  D.     Rights  of  Children,      Scribner's  Mag.,  Vol. 

XII.,  242.     Also  ia  book  form  as  Childreti's  Rights.     Bos- 
ton, Houghton,  Mifflin.     $1.00. 
Winterburn,   Florence  Hall.      Nursery  Ethics.      N.   Y.,  Baker. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Feelings  and  Emotions 

1.  Trace  in  some  one  child  the  growth  of  icar,  anger, 
and  love.  Note  what  called  out  the ^r5/ expression  in 
Observa-  each  case,  and  how  the  range  of  objects 
tions.  widens.  Did  the  child  express  affection 
before  he  was  taught  the  kiss  or  the  loving  pat?  Was 
he  imitating? 

2.  Ask  children  of  what  they  are  most  afraid,  and 
why? 

3.  Obtain  from  adults  reminiscences  of  the  persons 
whom,  as  children,  they  loved  best. 

(1)  At  what  age  did  the  lo\e  exist? 

(2)  What  relation  did  the  person  hold  to  you?     How 

well  did  you  know  the  person?  Did  you  see 
the  person  daily  or  hourly?  Was  mystery  an 
element  in  the  love? 

(3)  Why  did   you   love  the   person?     On  account  of 

substantial  services,  like  feeding  and  clothing 
you?  Or  for  some  personal  quality?  Or 
because  of  kisses  and  caresses  for  you?  Or  for 
gifts — candy,  j^jicture-books,  etc.?  (It  would 
hardly  be  possible  to  question  childrim  them- 
selves, as  the  knowledge  that  their  papers  were 
to  be  read  by  the  teacher  would  prevent  a  free 
•expression  of  feeling.) 

There  is  probably  no  one  subject  in  psychology  that 
has  caused   as  much   discussion   as   that  of  feeling  and 

212 


FEELINGS    AND    EMOTIONS  2I3 

emotion.     How  pleasure  and  pain  have  originated  and 

what   is  their  value,   what  emotion   is   and    into   what 

classes  it  is  to  be  divided,  are   matters  on        introduc- 

which  there  are  nearly  as  many  opinions  as        ^^°^- 

there  are  writers.     We  shall   not,  however,  enter  into 

the  discussion  of  these  much  disputed  points  except  in 

the  most  incidental  way,  but  rather  limit  ourselves  to 

the  description   of  certain   definite  emotions,  as   they 

appear    in  children,  and   thus   gain   some   idea   of   the 

emotional  nature  as  it  actually  manifests   itself.     This 

will  show,  at  least  in   a  general  way,  what   the   most 

powerful  si)rings  of  action  are,  and  will   lead  on  to  the 

subject  of  interest,  and  of  tendencies  to  action. 

Interest,  indeed,  can  not  be  eliminated  entirely  from 

this  discussion,  for  interest  is  feeling  directed   towards 

a   definite   object,  and    it   is   impossible   to 

•iri-  '^i        J.  1.    ^  •        •    i.  «.      Feeling  and 

consider  feeling  without  taking  into  account     interest. 

its  objects,  more  or  less.  Whatever  division 
we  make  must  be  more  or  less  artificial.  We  shall, 
however,  take  up  here  those  feelings  in  which  the 
pleasure  or  pain  aspect  is  the  most  marked  feature  to 
the  person  himself.  In  interest  the  attention  is  con- 
cerned more  with  the  object  and  less  with  the  feel- 
ing, but,  as  we  shall  notice,  either  may  pass  into  the 
other  in  any  specific  case. 

Even  before  birth  it  is  probable  that  a  child  feels 
pains  and  pleasures  of  touch,  from  pressures  and  jars, 
but    these    are   necessarily  vague.       After     nrst  pains 

birth,  for  a  long  time,  the  most  vivid  feel-     and 

xi  I.     1       -.1     1  .  I      pleasures, 

ings  are  those  connected  willi   nungei   and 

its  satisfaction,  with  warmth  and  cold,  and  with  touch. 

Under    this    last    head    come    the   baby's    delight     in 

being  relieved   from   the  confinement  of  clothing,  the 


214 


THE   CHILD 


comfortable  feeling  of  water  in  the  batb.,  and  the 
pleasure  of  being  rubbed  dry  and  warm.  Preyer  and 
Compayre  agree  that  in  the  first  months  of  life  the 
greatest  pleasure  is  the  negative  one  of  getting  rid  of 
pain.  In  the  course  of  a  month,  moderately  bright 
lights  and  slowly  moving  objects  cause  pleasure,  and 
by  the  second  month  bright  colors  and  sweet  sounds 
are  sources  of  delight.  Between  the  fourth  and  sixth 
months,  the  pleasure  of  grasping  things  and  the  delight 
of  being  able  to  do  things,  such  as  tearing  or  crumpling 
paper,  ringing  the  bell,  and  so  on,  come  into  promi- 
nence. 

The  appearance  of  the  first  smile  that  indicatc^s 
pleasure  is  the  occasion  of  much  rejoicing.  Of  course 
a  baby  may  make  grimaces  that  look  like  smiles  very 
early,  either  accidentally  or  as  the  reflex  of  some  one 
else's  expression,  but  the  first  smile  of  delight  Dar- 
win says  did  not  appear  in  his  son  until  the  forty-fifth 
day.  The  smile  is  usually  accompanied,  especially  as 
the  child  gets  a  little  older,  by  crowing  and  kicking, 
and  movements  of  the  arms.  Perez  says  that  the  little 
baby  is  easily  fatigued  by  any  unusual  experience, 
whether  pleasurable  or  painful,  and  should  not  be  con- 
stantly amused  by  over-fond  mothers. 

If  he  is  well,  the  baby  is  usually  content  to  lie  in 
his  cradle  and  take  in  from  it  the  sights  and  sounds 
about  him,  dropping  off  to  sleep  at  intervals  to  recover 
from  the  pressure  of  the  novel  world.  He  gets  all  the 
amusement  that  his  nervous  system  can  stand  in  this 
way. 

Prominent  among  the  pleasures  that  seem  to  have 
no  object,  is  the  child's  delight  in  being  tickled.  A 
summary  of  Dr.  G.  Stanley  Hall's  investigation  of  this 


FEELINGS    AND    EMOTIONS 


215 


subject  follows.     Most  children  and  even  adults  have  a 
tendency  to  fuss  with  the  skin,  to  rub  it  or  scratch   it, 
especially  if  it  has  any  slij^ht  bruise,  rouLjh- 
ness  or  eruption    that  causes   a   feeliiif/  of  Tickling  and 

-ri  4-      u  }  1   laughing, 

uneasiness,      there  seems  to  be  a  deniand 

on  the  part  of  the  skin,  as  of  the  other  sense-organs, 
to  be  stimulated.  This  need  is  satisfied  by  rubbing, 
and  also  especially,  by  tickling.  The  sensitiveness 
of  the  parts  of  the  body  varies  more  or  less,  but 
this  is  the  general  order:  soles,  under  arms,  neck, 
under  chin,  waist,  ribs  and  cheeks.  Many  children 
can  be  thrown  almost  into  fits  by  a  little  tickling,  and 
at  some  we  need  only  point  the  finger  to  send  them 
into  gales  of  laughter.  Dr.  Hall  considers  this  great 
sensitiveness  a  survival  of  ancestral  experiences  in 
tropical  lands,  where  the  sense  of  touch  must  be  very 
delicate  to  escape  the  bite  of  poisonous  insects.  Why 
the  experience  now  should  be  so  highly  pleasurable, 
instead  of  a  source  of  terror,  is,  to  say  the  least,  inex- 
plicable, on  this  theory. 

Another  source  of  merriment  to  children  is  founa  in 
the  animal  world.  Children,  says  Dr.  Hall,  have  a 
closer  connection  with  animals  than  adults  do,  because 
the  organs  common  to  men  and  animals,  which  in  the 
adult  are  atrophied,  are  relatively  larger  in  the  child. 
There  are  over  one  hundred  and  forty  of  such  organs, 
and  they  furnish  a  larger  background  of  common  feel- 
ing than  is  possible  with  the  adult.  The  animals  which 
are  most  often  the  cause  of  merriment  are,  in  the 
order  of  frequency,  the  dog,  cat,  pig,  monkey,  rooster, 
crow,  chicken,  duck,  ape,  goose,  sheep,  cow,  and 
horse.  Children  are  also  prone  to  laugh  at  what  is  for- 
bidden or  secret.     This  is  due  to  a  relief  of  tension, 


2  l6  "^^^   CHILD 

Dr.  Hall  thinks,  and  is  injurious  on  every  account.  It 
lessens  the  restraint  u\)(n^  social  decency,  and  gives 
rise  to  wrong  feelings  about  sexual  subjects.  It  fur- 
nishes still  another  argument  in  favor  of  giving  a  child 
knowledge  of  such  matters. 

Anger  and  fear  are  commonly  considered  instinctive 
emotions,  that  is,  certain  objects,  upon  the  first 
accjuaintance  with  them,  will  call  out  the 
same  feelings  and  expressions  from  all 
men.  Darwin  observed  that  as  early  as  the  eighth  day 
his  child  wrinkled  his  forehead  and  frowned  before 
crying,  as  if  angry;  and  in  the  second  month  Perez 
observed  that  the  child  showed  anger  by  pushing  away 
with  a  frown  objects  that  he  did  not  like.  In  the 
fourth  month  anger  is  certainly  shown;  the  face  and 
head  become  red,  and  the  cry  shows  irritation.  This 
is  caused  at  first  by  delay  in  suj^plying  footl;  but  two 
or  three  months  later  will  be  called  out  b)'  an\'  thwart- 
ing of  desire,  such  as  the  dropping  of  a  tow 

Anger  at  this  early  age,  it  must  be  noted,  is  simply 
the  instinctive  rebelling  against  pain.  It  is  wholly 
unreasonable  and  is  best  dealt  with  1)\'  dixerting  the 
child's  attention  if  the  deprivation  is  for  the  child's 
good.  As  a  child  gets  a  little  older,  especially  if  it  is 
a  boy,  he  is  likely  to  vent  his  anger  by  beating  the 
person  or  thing  that  offends  him,  or  by  throwing 
things  at  them.  Here,  also,  until  a  child  can  be 
reasoned  with,  diversion  of  attention  and  the  final 
securing  of  an  expression  of  affection  is  the  wisest 
nu;thod  of  treatment. 

At  best  only  a  few  of  the  causes  of  anger  can  be 
enumerated.  There  is,  in  the  first  place,  what  may  be 
called   an  irascible  disposition,  with  which  some  seem 


FEELINGS   AND    EMOTIONS 


2  17 


to  be  born.  Disappointments  and  vexations  which 
others  would  hardly  notice  result  in  violent  outbursts 
of  temper.   Personal  peculiarities  of  speech, 

G3<UB6S  of 

gait,  dress — almost  anything,  in  fact — may        anger, 
lead   to    a    hate    that  is   almost   murderous 
in  its  vindictivcness.     When  a  child  is  so  unfortunate 
in    disposition,    only    the    most    constant,    temperate, 
kindly  training  in  self-control  will  help  him. 

There  are,  in  some  cases,  physical  conditions  caus- 
ing constant  irritation  which  are  reflected  in  this  bad 
temper.  Hence  parents  should  first  of  all  ascertain 
whether  the  child  is  healthy.  Fatigue  is  also  a  com- 
mon cause  of  irritability.  With  older  children  as  with 
younger  the  thwarting  of  expectations  is  one  of  the 
most  common  causes  of  anger.  A  child  to  whom  a 
promise  has  been  broken,  who  has  been  "fooled,"  who 
has  been  called  home  before  he  finishes  his  game,  is 
usually  an  angry  child.  Anger  over  a  violation  of 
justice  or  principle  is  relatively  uncommon  in  chil- 
dren. The  feeling  of  pain  or  the  suffering  of  personal 
injury  is  usually  the  underlying  cause. 

As  to  the  method   to  be  used  in   controlling   anger 

we    find   the  most    conflicting    theories.     The    natural 

tendency  is  to  express   the  anger  in  some 

way — to   strike    or   bite  or   scratch,    or   at       „°°  !!,°  ° 
•>  '  anger. 

least  to  say  sharp  words  or  to  slam  a  door. 
Many  men  find  great  relief  in  swearing  and  others 
think  vigorously  what  they  dare  not  say.  In  all  these 
cases,  there  is  some  vent  for  the  emotion,  and  usually 
it  is  some  kind  of  reaction  against  the  person  who 
caused  the  anger.  Dr.  Colin  Scott  has  collected 
cases  of  girls  who,  when  angry,  would  picture  them- 
selves  as  dead,  and  the  person   who  had  injured  them 


2  l8  THE  CHILD 

as  suffering  from  rc-niorsc.  lie  advocates  this  as 
a  healthy  outlet  for  an  emotion  which,  if  kept  in  and 
allowed  no  expression,  causes  more  and  more  resent- 
ful brooding  over  the  wrong. 

It  is  true  that  nothing  can  be  worse  than  to  brood  over 
an  injury,  but  expression  of  the  anger  is  not  the  only 
alternative  for  this.  Anything  that  keeps  the  mind  off 
the  injury  and  uses  up  the  energy  is  equally  service- 
able. A  long  walk,  chopping  wood,  carpentry  work,  em- 
broidery— anything  that  is  not  so  habitual  as  to  be  auto- 
matic, anything  that  forces  one  to  attend  to  it,  may  be 
the  vent  for  anger.  Then  after  a  time,  the  first  strength 
of  the  emotion  passes  away,  and  we  can  combat  it  by 
reason  and  by  the  cultivation  of  love  or  pity  in  its  place. 

It  is  doubtful  if  anything  but  harm  comes  from  allow- 
ing ourselves  to  express  any  bad  emotion.  The  very 
expression  recnforces  the  feeling  and  makes  it  more 
lasting.  We  can  do  naught  but  condemn  the  atti- 
tude which  is  cultivated  by  picturing  one's  self  as  the 
injured  party,  the  cause  of  remorse  to  others.  One 
may  or  may  not  have  been  injured  when  one  has  been 
angered,  but  whether  one  has  or  not,  the  pose  of  self- 
righteousness,  of  the  injured  martyr,  is  the  pose  of  a  prig 
and  has  nothing  admirable  in  it.  In  short,  to  repress 
the  expression  of  anger,  and  to  cultivate  the  expression 
of  love,  is  in  large  part  to  repress  the  anger  and  increase 
the  love,  and  is  the  best  training  in  self-control. 

Jealousy  appears  very  early,  even  in  the  nursing  child, 

who  gets  angry  if  another  child  is  given  his  bottle.      It 

is    caused     by    any    prospect    of    another 

Jealousy.  .  ,  \  i    •     u      .. 

usurpmg  one  s  own  pleasures,  and   is  best 

treated   in  much  the  same  way  as  anger — by  the  culti- 
vation of  sympathy  and  love. 


FEELINGS   AND    EMOTIONS 


219 


None  of  the  emotions  of  children  have  been  so  care- 
fully studied  as  fear;  for  there  is  none  which  gives 
more  anxiety  to  parents  or  is  more  difficult 
to  overcome,  especially  with  little  children. 
Many  students  of  child  nature  believe  that  there  are 
instinctive  fears,  as  well  as  fears  that  are  the  result  of 
sad  experiences.  Others  maintain  that  fears  cannot 
properly  be  called  instinctive  because  the  objects 
which  call  them  out  vary  widely.  Thus  some  children 
are  always  afraid  of  darkness;  others  are  wholly 
unaffected.  Perhaps  in  view  of  this  variation  we  shall 
be  nearest  the  truth  if  we  say  that  anything  which 
makes  a  child  feel  helpless  or  insecure,  or  that  startles 
him,  is  very  likely  to  cause  fear. 

The  very  first  fears,  which  come  at  least  as  early  as 
the  third  month,  are  due  almost  entirely  to  sudden  sur- 
prise. Loud  or  unexpected  sounds,  therefore,  such  as 
thunder  or  the  banging  of  a  door,  or  the  furious  bark- 
ing of  a  dog,  are  the  most  common  causes  of  these 
fears.  A  little  later,  strange  objects  and  persons  call 
out  protests  and  tears  from  many  children,  but  the  fear 
is  only  slight.  The  recovery  from  it  may  be  followed 
by  laughter  and  delight.  This  makes  it  possible  to 
train  a  child  to  face  little  fears,  and  afterward  larger 
ones,  bravely. 

In  Sully's  record  the  first  fears  of  things  seen  were 
called  out  by  a  strange  place  in  the  fourth  month,  and 
by  a  strange  face  in  the  sixth  month.  This  latter 
fear  was  not  overcome  for  a  year.  New  clothes  may 
cause  terror,  and  tossing  in  the  arms  and  learning  to 
walk  alone  also  cause  many  fears.  In  both  these  cases, 
the  feeling  of  insecurity  is  doubtless  the  potent  factor. 
Dolls  that  have  anything  unusual  about  the-m,  such  as 


220  "^"^   CHILD 

oddness,  or  ugliness,  or  broken  members,  also  arouse 
fear.  In  this  class  also  should  be  put  fears  of  appar- 
ently uncaused  occurrences,  such  as  a  feather  floating 
in  the  air,  or  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  moving  over  the 
grass.  Some  observers  of  animals  claim  that  this  is 
what  makes  horses  shy  at  a  bit  of  paper  in  the  road. 
The  story  of  the  dog  who  was  frightened  into  a  fit  by 
seeing  a  bone  moved  by  an  invisible  thread  also 
belongs  here.  Fear  of  the  dark  does  not  occur  until 
the  fourth  month  or  later,  as  a  rule,  and  is  closely 
connected  with  imagination. 

All  these  fears  may  rise  at  an}'  time  with  children 
who  never  had  them  'before,  and  they  may  persist 
through  life,  or  remain  for  only  a  short  time.  Fear  of 
black  things,,  black  animals,  black  dresses,  black 
places,  and  fears  of  furs  and  of  teeth,  occur  also 
with  some  children  without  any  experience  to  justify 
them.  Whether  they  are  reverberations  of  ancestral 
or  prenatal  experience  or  not,  we  cannot  say. 
Preyer  records  that  at  ten  months,  his  boy  was  afraid 
of  high  tones;  and  at  twenty-one  months,  of  the  sun. 
Doubtless  each  parent  can  cite  other  individual 
instances. 

Let  us  consider  now  the  proportions  of  children  who 

have  and   who  have   not   fears,  and   the   numbers   and 

the  causes  of  the  fears.     It  seems  to  be  the 

Percentage  ^^^  ^.j^^j.  ^^^^  children  fear  more  kinds  of 
of  fears. 

things  than  normal  children,  and  have  more 

imaginary  fears.     The  sense  of  helplessness   is   more 

prominent.      Imbeciles,  on  the  other  hand,  have   fewer 

fears,    for   they  do    not    know    enough    to    be    afraid. 

Miss  Calkins  has   investigated   the   fears  of   children 

with  these  results: 


FEELINGS    AND    EMOTIONS 

All  Children 

221 

Under 
3  Years 

3  TO  6 

Years 

6  TO  16 
Years 

No  fear 

39% 
6i 

11-5% 
88.5 

5    % 

Fear 

88.2 

Comparison  of  Boys  and  Girls 

Under  6  Years 

6 

TO  16  Years 

Boys 

Girls 

Boys 

Girls 

No  Fear       

17. 4f^ 
82.6 

24.2% 
75.8 

I 
98 

■J% 

0% 

Fear 

3_ 

100 

The  girls  show  less  variety  in  their  fears  and  are 
less  afraid  of  imaginary  things  than  the  boys. 
Under  three  years,  66  per  cent  of  the  fears  were  of 
things  seen,  and  23  per  cent  of  things  heard,  an  exact 
reversal  of  the  fears  of  the  baby.  Both  of  these 
diminish  somewhat  by  the  sixth  year,  and  the  number 
of  miscellaneous  fears  increases.  The  change  in  the 
objects  of  fear  at  different  ages  is  also  very  interesting: 


z 

X 

H 

w 
►J 

0 
w 

tn 
H 

0 
X 
0 

< 

Q 

►J 
< 

II 

-1 
< 

Pi 

H 
< 

Under  6  years. . . . 
9  to  14  3'ears 

7-3% 
2.2 

17.2% 
2.4 

2.5% 
2.2 

9.8% 
1.3 

14-7% 
60.6 

26.2% 
13-7 

4% 
93 

Imaginary  fears  increase  from  27  per  cent  at  the  age 
of  six  to  55  per  cent  at  fourteen.  Indeed,  we  may 
probably  class  the  enormous  increase  in  the  fear  of 
wild  animals  as  an  imaginary  fear  to  a  large  extent,  for 
few  children  have  any  actual  experience  with  wild 
animals.  The  fear  of  domestic  animals  decreases.  All 
fears  of  the  other  things  with  which  the  child  deals 
constantly,  decrease    steadily,  except   fear  of  nature. 


THE   CHILD 


Here  the  feeling  <^f  helplessness  and  uncertainty  seems 
to  increase  with  experience.  A  comparison  of  these 
observations  with  the  reminiscences  collected  by  Dr. 
Hall  which  are  far  nK^re  numerous  than  any  others, 
and  by  Ilolbrook,  will  be  of  interest. 

Objects  of  Fear  Under  23  Years  of  Age 


Hall 

Calkins 

HOLBROOK 

Thunder 

Girls 

14% 

Boys 

9% 

1% 

Persons  

II 

II 

0 

6 

6 

9 
9 
<) 
4 
3 

7.6% 

18 

Darkness 

4-4 

22 

Death 

6 

Domestic  animals.. 

18.4 
43-4 

12 

Rats  and  mice 

4 

4 

4 

3V 

3 

3 

2| 
2| 

4 

tr 

3 

2\ 

2" 

2 
2 

Ghosts 

Wind 

2.2 

I'a 

End  of  world 

Water 

Miscellaneous 

3 

I 

Hill 

3 

4 

' 

Dr.  Hall  gives  an  average  of  2.21  per  cent  fears  for 
each  boy,  and  3.55  for  each  girl,  while  from  other 
figures  he  gets  an  average  of  2.58  for  each  boy,  and 
5.46  for  each  girl. 

For  different  ages  the  averages  are: 


Under  4 

4  TO  7 

7  TO  II 

II  TO  15 

15  TO  18 

18  TO  26 

Bovs 

1.76% 
4.89 

1.5% 
2.44 

3.56% 
4.34 

3.69% 
6.22 

3.60% 
10.67 

2.55% 

Girls 

4.31 

This  directly  contradicts  Miss  Calkins'  observations 
for  children   under  the   age  of  six,  as  she  found  that 


FEELINGS    AND    EMOTIONS 


223 


girls  have  fewer  fears  than  the  boys;  and  she  does  not 
find  the  difference  after  six  so  great  as  Dr.  Hall  does. 

In  considering  the  objects  of  fear,  we  find  two  seri- 
ous discrepancies  between  the  three  observers:  the  fear 
of  darkness  varying  from  4  per  cent  to  22  Discrep- 
per  cent;  and  the  fear  of  wild  animals  vary-  ancles, 
ing  from  o  to  43  per  cent.  The  other  slight  variations 
would  probably  disappear  with  more  observations,  but 
these  two  points  of  variation  are  difficult  to  explain. 
Even  if  we  count  reptiles,  insects,  and  rats  and  mice 
as  wild  animals,  the  total  is  but  15  per  cent  as  against 
43.4  per  cent.  Evidently  much  more  careful  observa- 
tion is  necessary  here.  Dr.  Hall  says  further  that  the 
fear  of  the  world  and  of  kidnapping  decreases  with 
maturity,  while  fear  of  thunder  and  lightning,  robbers, 
reptiles,  and  insects  increases.  Fear  of  wind,  water, 
darkness,  domestic  animals,  ghosts,  death,  and  disease 
increases  at  pubescence  and  decreases  later. 

Dr.  Hall  is  very  fond  of  referring  fears  to  ancestral 
experiences,  that  is,  he  makes  them  instinctive  sur- 
vivals of  a  life  under  other  conditions.  We 
have  already  seen,  however,  that  the  fears  Causes  of 
vary  so  much  that  this  explanation  is 
hardly  tenable.  It  seems  more  reasonable  to  refer 
many  apparently  causeless  fears  to  nervous  shock  or  to 
the  feeling  of  helplessness  and  strangeness.  Of  course, 
pictures  and  stories  are  also  common  causes  of  fear. 

Where  fear  is  purely  the  result  of  nervous  shocks  it  is 
difficult  to  control.     Many  people  who  know  the  harm- 
lessness  of    it,   are,   nevertheless,   stricken 
with  terror  by  thunder.     The  most  that  can       fear*^°^°* 
be  done  in  such  cases  is  to  hold  the  mind 
to  the  conviction  of  the  harmlessness   of  the  object 

15 


224 


THE   CHILD 


feared.  In  other  cases,  such  as  fear  of  the  dark,  or  of 
ghosts,  entire  control  can  be  attained  by  this  method, 
especiall)'  if  the  child's  pride  is  stimulated  so  that  he 
wants  to  ()\ercome  his  fear. 

It  sht)uld  be  needless  to  say  that  a  child  ought  never 
to  be  frightened  unless  fear  is  the  only  thing  to  keep 
him  out  of  harm.  It  is  true  that  "a  burnt  child  dreads 
the  fire,"  and  fear  is  jjotent  in  many  directions,  but 
the  parent  or  teacher  who  habitually  appeals  to  it  is 
cultivating  low  motives.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  going 
too  far  to  say  that  fear  should  ne\er  be  employed,  but 
it  should  be  a  last  resort  and  the  necessity  of  using  it 
declares  a  deficiency  either  in  teacher  or  in  child. 

Bashfulness  is  an  offshoot  of  fear,  the  survixal  in  a 
lessened  form  of  what  was  active  terror  in  our  ances- 
tors. It  aiipears  in  the  little  child  as  an 
instinctive  shrinking  from  strange  persons 
and  things.  It  is  not  marked  enough  to  be  called  fear. 
However,  it  may  be  overcome  under  proper  condi- 
tions by  imitation,  but  is  succeeded  in  the  second  or 
third  year  by  a  second  shyness,  which  is  due  to  self- 
consciousness.  The  three-year-old  hides  and  yet 
looks;  he  wants  to  become  actjuainted,  but  can  not  for- 
get himself  enough  to  do  so.  .Such  bashfulness  is 
likely  to  obtrude  itself  under  unusual  circumstances 
until  adolescence  is  passed. 

Out  of  nine  hundred  children  40  per  cent  remember 

a  Christmas  or  a  birthday  as  the  happiest  day  of  their 

li\'es;    and  25  i)er  cent   remember  an  excur- 

Joys  and  ^j^^^  ^^  ^  picnic  on  account  of  the  fun  that 

sorrows.  r 

they  had.     Anything  of  a  pleasing  nature 

which   introduces  novelty  into  a  child's   life  delights 

him. 


FEELINGS   AND    EMOTIONS 


225 


The  death  of  some  i'ela(i\-e  or  friend  caused  the 
(inhappiest  day  for  50  yicv  cent  of  the  children,  while 
sickness,  physical  punrshnient  or  disappointment 
caused  it  for  35  per  cent.  In  general,  the  greatest  joys 
and  sorrows  of  a  child  at  any  time  or  age  are  con- 
nected with  the  satisfaction  or  thwarting  of  his  strong- 
est interest. 

The  first  expression  of  sympathy  is  purely  imita- 
tive. The  baby  of  six  months  draws  down  his  mouth 
when  others  cry,  and  laughs  in  response  to 
laughter.  If  James's  theory  of  the  emo-  an™pity^ 
tions  be  true,  this  instinctive  reaction 
creates  a  corresponding  state  of  mind,  at  least  to  a 
slight  degree,  which  is  the  basis  of  sympathy.  As  a 
child  grows  older,  he  learns  more  and  more  by 
experience  what  states  of  feeling  certain  expressions 
stand  for,  and  is  able  to  put  himself  into  the  other 
person's  place.  Preyer  records  that  in  the  twenty- 
seventh  month  his  son  cried  with  pity  at  seeing  paper 
dolls  cut  in  two.  This  first  pity  is,  as  we  should 
expect,  shown  in  connection  with  physical  things — 
hunger  and  cold,  lack  of  shelter  and  clothing.  On  the 
other  hand,  children  frequently  laugh  at  deformity 
and  sorrow.  One  of  the  sad  chapters  in  the  lives  of 
feeble-minded  children  is  that  they  can  seldom  be 
allowed  to  play  with  normal  children  because  they  are 
badly  treated.  Such  ill  treatment  is  not,  however,  so 
much  a  sign  of  cruelty  in  children  as  of  ignorance,  and 
can  usually  be  cured  by  showing  the  child  the  real 
suffering  that  he  is  causing. 

In  the  same  way  he  can  be  taught  kindness  to  ani- 
mals. It  is  certainly  true  that  very  often  when  children 
are  hurting  animals  cruelly  and  are  laughing  at  their 


226  THE    CHILD 

contortions  of  pain,  they  do  not  see  nnythinj,^  more  than 
the  mere  movements,  as  of_  a  jumping-jack.  Their 
fondness  for  practical  jokes  shows  this  same  charac- 
teristic. The  only  cure  for  such  lack  of  sympathy  is  a 
wide  experience  and  a  constant  exercise  of  the  imag- 
ination in  "putting  yourself  in  his  place."  When 
Marie  Antoinette  was  told  that  the  starving  peasants 
of  France  had  no  bread  to  eat  she  askdA  in  all  simplic- 
ity, "Then  why  do  they  not  eat  cake?"  She  lacked 
the  experience  necessary  for  sympathy. 

It  is  commonly  said  that  the  child's  first  affection  is 
given  to  his  mother  and  is  based  upon  his  physical 
dependence  on  her  and  his  pleasure  in  the 
warmth  and  comfort  he  obtains  from  her. 
It  is  difficult,  however,  to  see  how  anything  but  the 
feeling  of  dependence  and  of  personal  enjoyment  can 
rise  from  this  basis.  Rather  we  take  the  ground  that 
Dewey  does,  that  sympathy  which  seeks  an  outlet  in 
action  is  love,  and  that  antipathy  which  seeks  an  out- 
let in  action  is  hate.  When  our  liking  for  a  person 
depends  solely  upon  his  usefulness  to  us,  it  is  unworthy 
of  the  name  of  love. 

To  return  to  the  baby,  his  first  spontaneous  caresses, 
arc,  naturally  enough,  given  to  the  one  who  tends  him 
and  whom  he  knows  best — his  mother.  As  he  grows 
older,  the  love  of  parents  and  of  friends  can  show 
itself  more  and  more  in  different  ways,  and  his  first 
responses,  which  were  to  a  large  extent  instinctive  and 
vague,  also  become  more  varied.  His  love  for  his 
parents  deepens  and  widens  to  include  friends  and 
God. 

Mothers  sometimes  lament  the  growth  of  their  chil- 
dren  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  as  if  the  bonds  of 


FEELINGS    AND    EMOTIONS 


227 


love  were  lessened  thereby.  This  may  happen  where 
a  child  is  allowed  to  accept  without  any  return  the 
greatest  sacrifices  from  his  parents.  He  is 
thereby  taught  selfishness  and  allowed  to  jn  affection 
think  that  his  good  is  distinct  from  his  par- 
ents' and  superior  to  it.  It  is  sometimes  said  that  the 
most  selfish  person  is  the  one  most  tenderly  loved. 
There  is  a  certain  truth  in  this. 

Love  is,  in  its  very  nature,  active  and  self-sacrific- 
ing, and  increases  in  proportion  to  what  it  does.  If  it 
is  expended  upon  a  selfish  person  who  is  believed  to 
be  worthy  of  it,  or  if  it  is  called  out  toward  a  sick  or 
helpless  person,  it  finds  ample  room  for  growth.  So 
when  a  child  is  little,  the  parents'  love  is  peculiarly 
tender,  and  it  is  hard  to  have  this  love  grow  into  a 
different,  though  equally  strong  one,  and  still  harder 
to  train  the  child  to  love  by  teaching  him  sympathy 
and  service. 

Love  and  service  are,  however,  inseparable  terms, 
and  so,  even  from  babyhood,  the  little  one  should  be 
allowed  and  encouraged  to  do  his  best  in  helping  about 
the  house,  in  comforting  his  parents  in  their  worries 
and  in  celebrating  their  joys. 

In  every  possible  case  some  act  expressive  of  his 

love  should  be  suggested,  and  with  it,  the  loving  word 

and  the  caress.      Anglo-Saxons  are  prover- 

.  Caresses, 

bially  reserved;    in  our  fear  of  hypocrisy, 

we  go  to  the    other  extreme  of  reticence.      Many  a 

child  can  remember  each  individual   kiss  that  he  has 

received  from  parents  who  would  give  their  lives   for 

him  if  necessary,  and  who  do  sacrifice  many  pleasures 

and   luxuries.      Such  restraint  works    a  harm    to   the 

child  in  allowing  him  to  believe  himself  unloved  in 


221 


THE   CHILD 


contrast  to  his  more  fortunate  companions  who  are 
kissed  and  caressed.  He  is  not  of  an  age  to  under- 
stand the  love  that  gives  up  comforts  to  provide  him 
an  education,  while  leaving  him  without  the  loving 
woid  and  the  kiss  for  which  he  longs.  Parents  do 
themselves  wrong  in  their  children's  eyes,  and  hurt  the 
children  by  such  methods.  Is  it  not  better  to  have 
both  the  act  and  the  word  or  caress?  We  understand 
that  words  without  deeds  are  \ain,  but  why  should  we 
not  have  words  with  deeds? 

Finally,  there  is  no  better  way  to  cast  out  hate,  jeal- 
ousy and   all  their  brood  than  by  service;    loving  serv- 
ice  if  possible   but   any  sort  of  service  at 

Love  and  ^^.^j.  ^^^  ^yhjch  we  can  persuade  the  child, 
service.  ^ 

A  forced  kindness  later  becomes  sponta- 
neous if  persisted  in.  While  it  may  only  breed  hypoc- 
risy in  a  child  to  compel  him  to  treat  kindly  a  child 
whom  he  dislikes,  yet  we  can  \cry  often  call  his 
attention  to  some  interesting  or  lovable  or  pitiable  trait 
so  that  he  will  of  his  own  accord  help  the  child  and 
grow  to  like  him. 

Richter  tells  us  to  teach  our  children  to  love,  and 
they  will  need  no  ten  commandments,  and  we  have  a 
higher  authority  than  his  for  the  belief  that  the  Law 
and  the  prophets  are  summed  up  in  the-  command- 
ments to  love  God,  and  to  love  our  neighbor. 

REFERENCES 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.     Bashfulness  in  Children.       Ediic.  Rev.,  Vol. 
VIII.,  434-441.     (Same  as  in  Meiital  DcvcUypment.) 
Mental  Devclopmc7it:     Methods  and  Processes.     See  Index. 
N.  Y.,  Macmillan.     $1.75. 

Bowles,  Mary  E.   Emotions  of  Deaf  Children  Compared  with  Emo- 
tions of  Hearing  Children.  Ped.  Sem.,  October,  1895,  331-334. 


FEELINGS   AND    EIVIOTIONS 


229 


Boyd,  A.  K.  H.     Concerning  the  Sf)rrovvs  of  Childhood.     Adatttic, 

Mo.,  Vol.  IX. 
Carpenter,   E.     Affection   in    Education.      /;//.  Jour,  of  Ethics, 

1899,  Vol.  IX.,  4S2-494 
Compayre,   G.     Intellectual    and    Moral  Development   of  the 

Child,  165-208.     First  Emotions.     N.  Y.,  Appleton.     $1.50. 
Darwin,  C.     Biography  of  a  Child.     Mind,  i^T]. 
Dugas,  L.     Ea  timidite.     Paris,  Alcan. 
Falkenthal,  K.     Emotional  Life  of  Children.       Wellesley  Coll. 

Psy.  Studies.     Fed.  Sem.,  Vol.  III.,  3i9-3:,o. 
Groos,  Karl.     Fhe  Play  of  Man,  166-169,  232-237.     N.  Y.,  App'e- 

ton.     $1.50. 
Hall,  G.  S.     Anger.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  1899,  Vol.  X.,  516-591. 

Education  of  the  Heart.     Kgn.  Mag.,  May,  1S99,  Vol.  XI., 

592-595.     (Asserts  that  children  need  the  rod,  fighting,  etc., 

to  prevent  them  from  becoming  parasites.) 
Fears.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  1897,  Vol.  VIII.,  147-249. 
Hall,  G.  S.,  and  Allin,  A.     P.sychology  of  Tickling,  Laughing  and 

the  Comic.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Vol.  IX.,  2-40,  234-240. 
Hall,  G.  S.,  and  Saunders,  F.  H.     Pity.     Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  Vol. 

XL,  534-591- 
Harrison,  M.  jNI.     Child's  Sense  of  Fear.     Arena,  1896,  960-969. 
Holbrook,  A.  S.     Fear  in  Childhood.    Barnes's  Studies  in  Educ, 

pp.  18-21.     Chicago.     University  of  Chicago  Press. 
Kitchin,  J.  M.  W.     Infantile  Grief.     Babyhood,  June,  1892. 
Maitland,  Louise.     Children's  Attitude  towards  Ghosts.     (Fear.) 
Barnes's  Studies  in  Ed.,  b^-b-j,  176-177.    Chicago.    University 

of  Chicago  Press. 
Mosso,  A.     Fear,  Chapter  XI.     N.  Y.,  Longmans.     $1.75. 
Perez,  B.     First  Three   Years  of  Childhood,  Chapter  V.     Syra- 
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Ribot,  Th.     Psychology  of  Emotions.     See  Index.     N.  Y.,  Scrib- 

ner.     $1.25. 
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1899,  Vol.  XII.,  82-87. 
Stanley,   Hiram,      Evolutionary  Psychology  of  Feeling.      See 

Index.     N.  Y.,  Macmillan.     §2.25. 
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2  ->0  THE   CHILD 

Stiyker,    Mabel    F.      Children's   Joys  and  Sorrows.     C.   S.   M., 

October,  1898,  217-225. 
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N.  Y.,  Appleton.     $2.50. 
Vostrov.sky,  Clara.     Children's  Superstitions.     Barnes's  Studies 

/■«  £"</i^f.,  123-143.     Chicago.     University  of  Chicago  Press. 


CHAPTER   XII 

Interests 

The  use  of  the  plural  number  in  the  title — interests 
instead  of  interest — emphasizes  the  fact  that  we  do 
not  wish  to  concern  ourselves  with  the  dis-  introduc- 
cussion  of  theories  so  much  as  with  the  ^^°^- 
presentation  of  observed  facts.  We  shall  touch  upon 
the  various  theories  of  interest— the  singular— only 
incidentally,  and  instead  shall  discuss  what  children 
are  interested  in  and  what  bearing  their  interests  have 
upon  our  treatment  of  them. 

In    discussions    of    interest,    it    is    usually  assumed 
that  every  one    knows  what    interest    is    and   what   it 
involves;   but  there  is,   in  reality,  no  one 
mental  attitude  more  difficult  to  disentangle       S5,ere8t! 
from  others  than  this  one.     So  closely  is  it 
connected  with  our  feelings  and  emotions,  our  expec- 
tations and  reasons,  our  decisions  and  will,   that  we 
stand  amazed  at  its  complexity. 

Interest  seems  to  express  the  whole  personality  more 
completely  than  any  other  mental  attitude.)  Show  me 
a  man's  interests  and  I  know  the  man,  both  his 
habits  and  his  ideals.  We  might  say  that  interest  is 
the  impulse  to  self-preservation,  directed  toward  a 
definite  object  or  idea.  It  is  the  impulse  of  the  man 
to  realize  himself  in  some  particular  form.  The  musi- 
cian's interests,  the  business  man's  interests,  the 
scholar's  interests  are,  each  of  them,  the  man's  desire 
impelling  him  to  secure  the  satisfying  thing. 


o'>2  THE    CHILD 

Interest  is  not,  then,  a  passive  thing  in  the  bef^nn- 
ning.  We  are  interested  in  so  far  as  we  ^^?/r  an  inter- 
est or  /ia7'6-  an  interest.  This  first  interest,  it  is  true, 
may  have  others  derived  from  it,  but  we  must  at  the 
beginning  hold  an  active  attitude  toward  life  rather 
than  a  passive  one.  The  baby's  eye  longs  for  light 
and  so  receives  it  gladly.  His  hands  crave  things  to 
touch  as  much  as  his  lungs  crave  air.  So  we  find  con- 
stant action  and  reaction  between  the  baby  and  his 
surroundings. 

Interest  thus  includes  both  feeling  and  thought  and 
points  toward  action.  It  is  the  focusing  of  the  state 
of  consciousness  preliminary  to  action.  It  is  atten- 
tion, but  attention  with  especial  reference  to  the 
feeling  which  prompts  it  and  to  the  action  which 
follows. 

Concerning   the   feelings  which   prompt  interest  we 
may  sav  that  they  are  in  the  first  place  instinctive  feel- 
ings, the  reverberations  of  ancestral  expe- 

Heredity  rjences 

and  interest.  ° 

There  can  be  no  doubt  now  that  any  child 

is  not  simply  the  child  of  his  parents,  but  of  all  his 
ancestors.  Traits  that  do  not  appear  in  either  father  or 
mother,  but  that  go  back  to  some  ancestor  of  perhaps 
a  hundred  years  before,  may  suddenly  crop  out  in  some 
feature,  some  deformity  or  beauty,  some  trick  of  voice 
or  carriage.  When  we  consider  that  if  we  carry  direct 
inheritance  back  only  eight  generations,  th(;re  are  two 
hundred  and  fifty-six  direct  ancestors,  we  can  see  how 
immensely  complicated  a  thing  inheritance  is.  Eight 
generations  are  nothing  to  an  individual  with  an  ances- 
try going  back  millions  of  years,  and  >'et,  if  the  present 
view  of  inheritance  be  true,  all  those  millions  of  years 


INTERESTS  2  "^  3 

of  inheritance  of  living-  and  acting  are  summed  up  in 
each  one  of  us  to-day. 

Biologists  have  proved  again  and  again  that  the 
human  embryo  in  its  development  passes  through 
well-marked  stages  representing  the  great  divisions  of 
animal  life,  and  now  anthropologists  are  teaching  us 
that  from  birth  to  maturity  the  child  also  passes 
through  definite  stages  representing  the  progress  of 
mankind.  Neither  biologists  nor  anthropologists  claim 
that  the  child  repeats  all  the  stages  of  evolution. 
Rather,  he  goes  through  only  certain  of  the  most  im- 
portant ones,  and  skips  the  rest. 

What  is  true  on  the  side  of  physical  growth  seems 
also  to  be  true  on  the  side  of  feeling  and  acting. 
All  babies  have  certain  instinctive  ways  of  feeling  and 
acting  toward  certain  stimuli,  and  these  are  what 
prompt  them  to  learn  more  about  the  object  or  to  get 
away  from  it,  that  is,  to  show  an  interest,  either 
pleasurable  or  painful. 

Such  a  feeling  is  not  by  itself  an  interest.  An  inter- 
est comes  when  the  craving  receives  satisfaction  from 
some  definite  object.  The  baby  sees  and  grasps  the 
bright  soft  ball  and  then  has  an  interest  in  the  ball.  The 
artist  imagines  the  beautiful  form.  He  has  an  interest 
in  it.  In  all  cases,  when  the  obscure  craving  finds  some 
definite  object,  or  idea,  which  joins  to  it  satisfaction  or 
frustration,  there  is  a  pleasurable  or  painful  interest. 

Interests  may  be  either  natural  or  acquired— natural, 
when  the  object  or  idea  is  in  itself  attractive     ^^gquired 

or  repellent;  acquired,  when  it  derives  its  and  natural 
•    ,  ,   r  .1  •  1  interests, 

mterest  trom  somethmg  else. 

A  beautiful  color,  or  a  loud  sound,  are  examples  of 

the  first.     If,  however,  we  love  the  color  because  it  is 


2  3.4 


THE   CHILD 


a  dear  friend's  favorite,  the  interest  is  derived;  so  also 
if  we  dislike  the  sound  Ijecause  it  reminds  us  of  a 
dreadful  accident.  Acquired  interests  call  into  play 
an  appreciation  of  the  relation  of  means  to  ends  and  of 
effects  to  causes;  natural  interests  do  not. 

As  interests  thus  call  into  play  both  feeling  and 
thinking  and  point  toward  action,  we  shall  get  the 
best  concrete  view  of  them  available  with  our  present 
knowledge  by  presenting  a  brief  summary  of  what  we 
have  had  so  far  and  an  outline  of  the  consequent 
action.  That  is,  we  shall  try  to  draw  a  picture  of  the 
child  at  each  of  the  typical  stages:  (i)  Babyhood,  up 
to  the  acquisition  of  speech;  (2)  early  childhood,  up  to 
the  second  dentition;  (3)  later  childhood,  to  the  advent 
of  puberty;  and  (4)  adolescence,  to  the  completion  of 
the  bodily  growth. 

For  the  first  two  months  of  his  life,  we  may  fairly 
say  that  the  baby's  chief  interest  is  in  what  goes  into 
his  mouth.  Not  only  are  the  lips  and  the 
ofbiby"ood°  tongue  the  parts  most  sensitive  to  touch, 
but  touch  is  relatively  more  developed  than 
other  senses.  Hearing  is  imperfect  and  sight  is  short 
and  uncontrolled.  The  arms  and  legs  are  not  under 
control  for  grasping  and  creeping,  so  that  the  baby 
must  perforce  wait  for  what  comes  his  way.  Further- 
more, he  spends  a  large  part  of  his  day  in  sleep.  What 
little  display  of  anger  he  makes  is  when  he  does  not 
get  his  food  promptly.  So  the  baby  is  a  dimly-see- 
ing, dimly-hearing,  little  creature,  sleeping  much  of 
the  time  and  conscious  chiefly  of  the  satisfaction  of 
food. 

During  the  third  month,  however,  with  more  distinct 
seeing  and  the  rise  of  memory,  comes  a  marked  interest 


INTERESTS 


235 


in  seeing  things.  Now  the  baby  holds  his  head  up, 
twists  his  head  and  body  to  see  things,  and  studies 
everything  about  him,  learning  it  in  its  various  appear- 
ances. The  interest  in  suckable  objects  continues  and 
is  strong,  but  its  prominence  is  relatively  less  because 
visible  objects  have  now  become  so  interesting. 

From  the  fourth  to  the  sixth  month,  both  of  these 
interests  continue,  and  are  fed  and  supplemented  by 
the  great  interest  in  graspable  objects.  Grasping  and 
sucking,  seeing  and  grasping,  seeing",  grasping  and 
sucking  are  now  combined  and  find  their  satisfaction 
in  superlatively  interesting,  seeable  graspable  and 
suckable  objects. 

The  baby  is  now  getting  control  of  his  body,  and 
between  the  fifth  and  sixth  months  the  rise  of  the 
instinct  of  imitation  gives  him  endless  desire  to  exer- 
cise this  new  control.  Anything  which  he  can  imitate 
now  becomes  interesting  and  as  the  movements  and 
voices  of  persons  are  most  imitable,  they  become  most 
interesting  to  him.  The  instinct  of  speech  arises  a 
little  later,  and  then  the  baby  begins  to  babble  and  to 
imitate  the  sounds  about  him.  After  some  months  of 
babbling  and  imitating  he  succeeds  in  beginning  to 
use  speech  as  well  as  gestures  and  cries  to  express  his 
thought. 

The  craving  of  the  growing  limbs  for  more  exercise 
results  in  creeping  and  later  in  walking,  with  the  wide 
range  of  new  activities  and  interests  thus  made  pos- 
sible. 

So,  during  the  first  year  and  a  half,  the  baby's  inter- 
ests are  connected  with  the  exercise  and  control  of  the 
sense-organs  and  of  the  larger  muscles  of  the  body. 
By    the  end    of  this    time   he    can    usually  walk    and 


2  -i5  THE    CHILD 

talk,  and  use  his  five  senses  with  a  fair  degree  of  accu- 
racy, though  he  still  is  lacking  in  control  in  many 
respects. 

From  the  accjuisition  of  speech  to  the  time  of  the 
second  dentition,  the   interests   of  babyhood   are  still 

^  ^       ^  strong,  but  are  shown  in  more  attention  to 

Interests  °'  ...  ... 

ofeariy  the  details   of    the   activities.      The   chud 

chiidiiood.  j^^^^^  jjj^^g  ^Q  playgames  that  test  the  sharp- 
ness of  the  senses;  he  likes  to  experiment  with  new 
movements — to  walk  on  tiptoe,  to  skip  and  dance, 
to  play  finger-games,  to  draw,  to  string  beads  and 
so  on. 

His  interest  in  imitating  persons  is  greater  than 
before.  His  plays  at  this  time  are  very  largely  imi- 
tative. He  imitates  persons  more  than  he  does  any- 
thing else.  He  personifies  all  sorts  of  inanimate 
objects,  and  the  only  cause  he  knows  is  a  personal 
one.  Through  his  interest  in  imitating  persons  he 
enters  into  the  race  interests  which  are  going  on  about 
him — learns  in  a  crude  way  how  we  get  our  food  and 
so  on.  His  interest  in  language  persists  in  various 
forms,  such  as  his  delight  in  nonsense  rhymes  and  his 
persistent  desire  to  name  all  the  objects  he  sees.  His 
love,  of  rhythm  is  also  prominent  and  is  closely 
connected  with  the  increasing  control  of  his  move- 
ments. 

During  the  latter  part  of  this  period  some  new  and 
strong  interests  arise.  As  memory  and  imagination 
develop  they  introduce  the  child  to  another  world 
which  he  finds  that  he  can  change  to  suit  hinTself,  while 
he  can  not  so  alter  the  world  of  his  senses.  The  love 
of  power  which  in  his  babyhood  was  gratified  by  his 
new  control  of  his  body,  now  finds  another  source  of 


INTERESTS 


237 


gratification  in  this  mental  play.  We  find  him,  there- 
fore, listening  to  and  inventing  tales  of  marvel  and 
mystery. 

The  rise  of  an  interest  in  causes  at  this  time  also 
leads  to  wonderings  and  questionings  and  to  specula- 
tions sometimes  startling  in  their  shrewdness.  With 
many  children  there  also  seems  to  be  an  interest  in 
enumeration  and  in  quantities,  as  seen  in  the  love  of 
counting  and  in  the  comparisons  of  size. 

In  the  little  child,  then,  up  to  the  time  of  the  second 
dentition,  the  interests  are  to  a  large  extent  confined 
to  his  delight  in  the  feeling  of  his  own  activities  and  of 
his  increasing  control  of  them.  On  the  physical  side  this 
appears  in  his  enjoyment  of  plays  that  exercise  his 
senses,  in  his  practice  of  all  movements  that  are  a  little 
difficult  for  him,  and  in  his  use  of  rhythm  and  of 
nonsense  rhymes.  On  the  mental  side,  it  appears  in 
his  love  of  imagining  and  inventing,  in  his  counting  and 
measuring,  and  in  his  ceaseless  questioning.  The  union 
of  the  two  and  also  the  growth  of  his  social  interests 
is  marked  above  all  by  his  love  of  imitation,  the  most 
characteristic  interest  of  this  period. 

In  these  early  years  the  interests  are  immediate  ones. 
The  child  enjoys  the  action  for  its  own  sake  without 
much  reference  to  any  end.  Little  children  who  are 
playing  "Pom  pom  puUaway,"  for  instance,  may  for- 
get all  about  the  goal  in  the  delight  of  running,  and 
end  the  game  in  a  chase.  So  also  a  little  fellow  begins 
to  draw  the  story  of  the  Three  Bears,  gets  interested  in 
making  the  bear  and  covers  his  paper  with  bears.  The 
movement  or  activity  is  what  he  enjoys.  He  does  not 
care  for  making  some  tJiing  so  much  as  he  does  for 
going   through    the   movements   of   making.      On   this 


238 


THE   CHILD 


account  a  little  child  is  usually  easily  diverted  from 
one  thing  to  another,  if  only  the  new  thing  allows  the 
same  general  movements  as  the  old. 

Educationally  this  is  the  period  when  interests  can 
be  given  a  more  definite  and  permanently  valuable  form 
if  the  parent  or  teacher  provides  the  materials  for  the 
child  to  work  with,  and  surrounds  him  with  a  life  that 
is  worth  the  imitation. 

In  the  period  from  the  second  dentition  to  puberty, 
there  is  a  great  widening  of  interests  due,  on  the 
Interests  physiological  side,  to  the  rapid  growth  of 
ofiater  association-fibers   in  the  brain.      The  char- 

ciiiidnood.       g^j.^,j.  Qf   ^j^g  interest    changes   materially. 

The  little  child,  as  we  have  just  said,  is  interested  prin- 
cipally in  doing  for  its  own  sake,  and  when  he  wearies 
of  one  activity,  he  turns  at  once  to  a  new  one.  As  he 
gets  older,  he  begins  to  do  things  for  the  sake  of  get- 
ting or  having  something  else.  He  makes  the  distinc- 
tion between  end  and  means  more  clearly  and  the 
means  have  an  acquired  interest  lent  them  by  the  nat- 
ural interest  that  the  end  has  for  him.  Where  the 
little  child  is  well  satisfied  with  the  scrawl  that  he  calls 
his  drawing,  the  older  will  erase  and  draw  over,  and 
perhaps  not  be  satisfied  even  when  he  is  all  through. 
The  little  child  wants  to  put  on  his  pretty  dress  regard- 
less of  all  else.  The  older  child  may  want  to  also,  but 
when  he  goes  to  make  mud  pies,  he  realizes  the  use  of 
the  plain  dress.  It  has  an  acquired  value,  while  the 
pretty  dress  has  a  natural  value. 

Such  acquired  interests  constantly  increase  in  num- 
ber and  in  remoteness  from  the  end,  until  we  find 
the  man  or  woman  working  for  an  end  in  a  drudgery 
that  has  in  itself  little  that  is  pleasant. 


THE    CHILD 


239 


The  child  of  this  age  has  interests  outside  of  his  own 
narrow  circle,  although  they  are  still  interests  in  per- 
sons.   Thus    a  beginning    can    be  made   in 

1        •  ,i'i         L-        J.C1      Interests  in 

history  and  science,  the  idea  being  to  nnd     ^^^  "tow." 

out    how  people  under  certain   conditions 

would  be  obliged   to  live,  how  they  would  be  obliged 

to  get  food  and  clothing  and  so  on. 

This  interest  in  the  "how"  of  things.  Dr.  Dewey 
warns  us,  however,  is  of  slow  growth.  It  arises  in 
about  this  order,  he  thinks:  reading,  writing,  numbers, 
science,  history  and  literature.  That  is,  a  child  first 
sees  the  advantage  of  knowing  how  to  read  and  is  inter- 
ested in  learning  words  and  sentences  before  he  sees 
the  use  of  learning  how  to  write.  His  first  interest  in 
science  and  in  history  is  the  same  as  the  little  child's — 
the  delight  in  activity  and  in  a  good  story,  but  a  little 
later  he  begins  to  experiment  in  science  and  to  reason 
from  cause  to  effect  in  history.  The  interest  in  w//jj/ 
has  become  replaced  by  a  curiosity  as  to  /lozv  things 
are  done.  In  order  to  hold  this  interest  in  the  "how" 
a  child  must  also  have  experiences  that  make  the 
"how"  of  use  to  him  and  he  must  have  some  end  that 
/le  himself  wishes  to  reach.  This  point  is  too  often 
neglected  by  teachers.  They  think  that  if  they  them- 
selves see  the  end,  it  is  sufficient.  But  if  the  child  does 
not  know  what  he  is  working  for,  how  can  he  be  long 
interested?  Or  even  if  he  is  curious,  how  can  he  work 
at  the  adapting  of  his  material  to  what  he  is  making? 

To  find  out  what  children's  interests  are,  a  series  of 
observations    was    made    by    Binet,     Earl         observa- 
Barnes  and    Shaw  in  this    manner:     They         ^^o'^^- 
made  out  a  list  of  common  words  and  asked  the  chil- 
dren to  tell  them  what  the  thing  was  which  was  named. 

16 


240 


THE   CHILD 


The  children  were  taken  separately  so  that  they  could 
not  imitate  each  other.  They  were  asked  no  questions 
and  given  no  suggestions,  but  left  to  state  their 
thoughts  themselves.  Left  thus,  it  was  believed  that 
the  children  would  describe  the  object  according  to 
their  greatest  interest  in.it.  The  list  of  words  was  as 
follows: 


knife 

mamma 

earthworm 

bread 

potatoes 

shoes 

doll 

bottle 

finger 

water 

flour 

clock 

armchair 

snail 

horse 

hat 

mouth 

wolf 

garden 

lamp 

omnibus 

All  three  observers  found  that  the  children  were 
most  interested  in  what  they  could  do  with  a  thing,  or 
in  its  Jisc  to  tJioii.  The  great  majority  of  them  defined 
the  words  from  this  personal  point  of  view.  For  ex- 
anipK::  "A  mamma  is  to  kiss  me  good  night" ;  "A 
lamp  is  to  give  me  light." 

Next  to  use,  they  were  interested  in  things  that  had 
action  or  mo\cmcnt.  They  showed  very  little  interest 
in  the  structure  or  substance  of  things  and  less  than  2 
per  cent  were  interested  in  form.  Only  3  per  cent  were 
interested  in  color,  but  the  very  small  per  cent  in 
both  these  cases  maybe  because  the  words  given  do  not 
call  up  these  ideas.  Very  few  of  the  objects  mentioned 
usually  have  any  such  coloring  or  structure  as  would 
Interest  attract  attention.   At  the  same  time,  it  is  true 

in  color  that  children  have  little  general  esthetic  in- 

andiife.  terest  in  the  color  of  pictures.      It  is  safe  to 

say  that  practically  all  children  prefer  colored  pictures 
to  black  and   white.     They  also  choose  pictures  which 


INTERESTS 


241 


they  call  "cunning,"  or  "sweet"  in  preference  to  the 
masterpieces.  A  mother  and  child  is  usually  preferred 
to  a  madonna,  and  pictures  of  children,  kittens  and 
puppies  in  playful  antics  mean  much  more  than  other 
pictures.  Natural  and  lifelike  pictures  are  preferred 
to  ideal  ones,  and  those  that  represent  activity  of 
some  sort,  to  those  of  quiet  scenes.  In  all  this  we  get 
again  the  same  truths:  childish  interests  are  in  the 
personal  and  active  sides  of  life. 

As  the  children  grow  older,  they  define  the  terms 
less  according  to  the  personal  use,  and  more  by  put- 
ting them  into  a  larger  class.  Their  concepts  become 
more  prominent,  and  the  central  idea  stronger. 
Formerly  it  was  supposed  that  reason — of  which  the 
idea  of  cause  and  effect  is  a  prominent  part — did  not 
develop  until  the  age  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  at  least, 
but  we  understand  now  that  it  is  of  as  long  and 
gradual  growth  as  our  other  mental  powers.  Nearly 
all  children  ask  "why"  before  they  are  four  years  old, 
and  this  interest  is  a  constant  one,  although  it  is  by 
no  means  the  most  prominent  one  until  maturity,  if  it 
is  at  that  time. 

Another  way  in  which  children's  interests  have 
been  observed  is  to  find  out  what  stories  from  their 
Readers  they  remember  best.  Nineteen  interest 
hundred  and  fifty  grade  children  have  been  in  scuooi 
questioned  on  this  point  with  rather  start-  Readers, 
ling  results.  It  was  found  to  begin  with  that  44  per 
cent  of  the  pieces  in  four  Readers,  or  nearly  half, 
were  remembered  after  one  term  by  only  5  per  cent 
of  the  children.  Almost  half  of  the  material  in 
these  Readers  was  uninteresting,  and  this  was  to  a 
very    large    extent    the    instructive    and   moral    parts. 


242 


THE    CHILD 


The  first  lesson  in  each  Reader  was  remembered, 
and  also  the  long  or  continued  lessons.  Those  best 
remembered  are,  as  we  should  expect,  those  which 
are  especially  natural,  and  which  appeal  to  the  child 
through  experiences  similar  to  his  own.  We  find,  e.g., 
that  32  per  cent  of  the  children  remember  stories  of  life 
best,  and  12  per  cent  those  of  animals.  Sev^en  and 
one-half  per  cent  give  allegiance  to  stories  with 
morals,  56  per  cent  to  stories  of  heroism,  and  only  2 
per  cent  to  instructive  stories.  At  first  the  liking  for 
poetry  is  simply  enjoyment  of  rhythm,  and  not  until 
adolescence  does  it  begin  to  be  enjoyed  as  literature. 
Of  course  these  interests  were  influenced  by  the  way 
the  stories  were  told. 

The  Readers  were,  if  we  remember  correctly,  those 
in  the  state  text-book  series  of  Indiana,  and  were  con- 
sidered to  be  about  the  average. 

Dr.  Hall's  ContC7iis  of  Cliildrcji  s  Minds  is  also 
interesting  here  as  showing  how  little  many  of  our 
Dr.  Haii'8  Readers  appeal  to  a  child's  own  experience. 
*®s*-  His  list  of  words  was  obtained  largely  from 

First  Readers,  and  the  children's  ignorance  is  amazing. 

Out  of  113  objects, 

90%   are  ignorant  of    7  of  them; 
80  to  90%     "         "  "   14  " 

70  to  80%     "         "  "  10  " 

60  to  70%     "         "  "  21    " 

50  to  60%     "         "  "  17   " 

making  an  average  of  over  60  per  cent  of  the  children 
who  know  not  of  the  meanings  of  over  half  the  words. 
With  regard  to  the  regular  school  subjects,  observa- 
tions  have  also  been   made  on  two   thousand   children 


INTERESTS 


24: 


above  third  grade.  Arithmetic,  history,  geography 
and  spelling  are  by  far  the  most  popular  studies,  in  the 
order  named.  Drawing,  music  and  nature  study  can 
not  compete  with  them.  Probably,  however,  these  do 
not  show  the  natural  interests  of  children,  but  rather 
are  due  to  the  conditions  of  this  particular  school.  It 
is  stated  that  drawing,  for  instance,  is  not  much 
emphasized,  and  again,  it  is  very  true  that  the  teach- 
er's interest  controls  the  child's  more  or  less.  If  there 
were  a  good  arithmetic  teacher  and  a  poor  drawing 
teacher,  the  child's  interest  might  be  just  the  reverse 
of  his  natural  interests. 

Childish  interests  during  this  period  may  then  be 
summed  up  thus:  the  interest  in  imitation  is  less 
prominent  than  before;  the  interest  in  imagining  and 
wondering  has  become  more  clear  cut  and  related  to  the 
needs  of  life.  It  shows  itself  as  a  greater  interest  in 
the  relation  of  means  to  end,  in  the  mechanism  of  life, 
or,  in  a  more  abstract  form,  as  a  love  of  classification. 
The  child  at  this  time  therefore  begins  to  enjoy  simple 
experiments,  he  likes  to  make  collections,  he  is  think- 
ing more  in  the  abstract. 

The  language  interest  is  smaller  durmg  the  first  part 
of  this  period  but  seems  to  revive  in  the  latter  part  in 
the  secret  languages  which  we  shall  mention  later. 
This  seems  to  indicate  the  advantage  of  beginning  the 
study  of  foreign  languages  at  this  time. 

The  interest  in  the  use  of  the  senses  is  at  least  undi- 
minished, while  the  love  of  movement  is  much 
increased.  The  games  of  this  period  call  for  a  far 
greater  amount  of  muscular  strength  than  before. 

The  interest  in  persons  becomes  stronger  and  now 
the  child  delights  in  a  history  that  describes  heroic 


2AA  THE    CHILD 

dcods.  On  the  other  hand,  the  moral  and  religious 
interests  are  not  much  developed  as  yet. 

In  all  cases  an  important  difference  exists  between 
this  period  and  the  previous  one,  namely,  that  the 
child  more  and  more,  if  given  the  opportunity,  plans 
ways  and  means  of  reaching  an  end.  The  little  child 
does  this  to  a  very  limited  extent.  This  and  the 
greater  variety  of  interests  of  the  later  period  are  due 
to  the  rapid  growth  of  association  fibers  in  the  brain. 

Therefore  the  general  educational  problem  of  this 
period,  to  which  all  others  are  subsidiary,  is  to  train 
the  power  of  adapting  means  to  ends,  to  cultivate 
acquired  interests  or  the  power  of  voluntary  attention. 

The  first  essential  is,  of  course,  an  end  that  to  the 
child  himself  seems  valuable,  and  this  is  supplied  by 
the  natural  interests  of  which  we  have  already  spoken, 
directed  into  channels  which  are  valuable  for  life 
to-day. 

Just  in  proportion  as  the  end  is  keenly  desired,  all 
the  details  of  the  means  are  interesting.  To  the 
woman  who  loves  ice-cream  all  the  details  of  making, 
packing,  and  freezing  are  of  interest.  Drudgery  goes 
back  to  one  of  two  things— either  the  act  is  so  simple 
that  after  it  has  been  learned  a  few  times,  the  mind 
finds  no  food  for  thought  in  it,  or  else  the  person  has 
no  interest  in  what  he  is  doing,  no  end  in  life  which  he 
is  striving  to  accomi)lish  through  ihc  medium  of  this 
act.  We  need,  therefore,  to  train  children  to  see  the 
bearing  of  all  the  little  things  of  life  upon  the  ideal 
character  whicli  they  hope  to  be,  upon  the  business 
which  they  hope  to  create,  upon  the  profession  which 
they  intend  to  follow.  Inability  to  connect  ends  and 
means;  that  is,  lack  of  training  a  child  to  have  acquired 


INTERESTS 


245 


interests,  is  a  great  defect  in  our  educational  system 
to-day.  Such  a  connection  between  the  end  that  the 
child  desires  and  the  means  which  have  only  an 
acquired  value  preserves  the  balance  between  pleasure 
and  duty,  and  makes  the  strong-willed,  reflective  man. 
Finally,   with   the  advent  of  puberty,   and   the   last 

period    of    rapid    brain    growth,    the   child 

,1        1      .         1         .•         1  •     1     The  interests 

enters    upon  the   last    educational    period,   ofyom^ij 

The  period  is  now  usually  estimated  to  last 

to  the  time  when  bodily  growth  is  complete,  at  aoout 

the  twenty-fifth  year. 

On  the  side  of  interest  this  period  is  not  so  much 
characterized  by  the  rise  of  new  interests  as  by  the 
broadening  and  deepening  of  those  already  existent. 
The  senses  become  more  active  and  consequently  there 
is  a  keener  interest  in  observation  of  all  kinds,  in 
nature,  and  in  science.  The  rapid  development  of  the 
muscular  system  in  boys  results  in  the  athletic  craze. 
The  wider  development  of  reason  appears  in  the  doubts 
and  questionings  about  the  various  systems  of  thought 
that  the  youth  finds  embodied  in  the  school  system, 
the  political  system,  the  religious  system,  and  all  the 
other  systems. 

The  most  notable  development  of  the  period  is 
doubtless  the  growth  of  the  interest  in  persons  which 
comes  as  the  direct  result  of  the  sexual  development 
of  this  age.  The  child  now  for  the  first  time  enters 
fully  into  his  social  inheritance,  feeling  the  bonds 
which  connect  him  with  others  and  desiring  the 
responsibilities  and  privileges  of  all  adults.  The 
moral  law  now  appeals  to  him  as  a  need  of  his  own 
nature,  and  the  obligation  to  do  good  for  its  own  sake 
now  becomes   binding.      In    numerous  ways  his  own 


2  l6  THE   CHILD 

indi\i(lual  self  is  yickled  to  his  social  self,  in  ways  both 
traj4ic  and  comic — in  the  de\-otion  to  dress  and  man- 
ners as  well  as  in  (he  ahaiulomiiciit  to  rt'lis^ious  exalta- 
tion. It  is  hardly  stating  it  too  strongly  to  say  that 
the  key  to  the  adolescent  is  his  interest  in  living  up  to 
what  he  conceives  to  be  the  social  demands  upon  him. 
Control  of  him  lies  to  a  large  extent,  therefore,  in 
controlling  his  conceptions  of  what  these  social 
demands  are,  and  this  is  not  a  matter  that  begins  only 
with  adolescence. 

We  have  had  occasion  to  remark  many  times  before 
that  social   habits  must   be  inculcated   from   the  begin- 
ning, and  we  can  now  see  the  imi)ortance  of 
Importance  .  ^  ' 

of  early  this.      i  he  youth   who   has   now  awakened 

social  (^y  ^  vivid   interest  in  his  relations  toothers 

training.  ,         ,  •  r      i  ,  ,      •  ,        ,  . 

has  his  sense  ot  what  these  relations  should 

be  determined    in   part  by   the   social  habits   which   he 

has   already   accjuired,  and   in    part   by   the   customs  of 

the  particular  people  with   whom   he   is   now  thrown. 

Where  the  two  sets  of  customs  disagree,  as  is  often  the 

case,  the  child's  consciousness  of  his  own   ambiguous 

position   is  very  keen,  and   he  brings  all  his  judgment 

and  reason  to  bear  upon  his  decisions  as   to  what  he 

should  do.      Now  he   is   fortunate   if  his  social   habits 

and  his  training  in  independent  judgment  are  such  that 

he  can   trust  to  his  habits   for  all  the  smaller  details  of 

deportment  and  devote  himself  to  the  (juestion  of  what 

his  ideal  shall  be  for  the  vital  questions  of  life. 

In  the  shaping  of  this  ideal  or  interest,  as  we  have 
already  said,  we  must  call  into  play  all  the  influences 
of  surroundings — books,  pictures,  etc. — but  more 
important  than   any  of  these   to  the  adolescent  is  the 

isc   and    untiring   friendship   of    some   older   person, 


w 


INTERESTS 


247 


teacher  or  parent.  Fortunate  is  the  youth  whose  father 
and  mother  are  his  best  friends — and  sadly  lacking  in 
some  respect  are  the  parents  who  have  not  kept  close 
enough  to  their  children  to  be  their  best  friends. 

We  hear  a  great  deal  of  talk  about  the  importance  of 
keeping  children  interested.  Unless  children  like  a 
school  duty,  a  task,  a  dress,  or  a  certain 
kind  of  food,  it  is  assumed  that  they  ought  JJt^e^eSf.^'''^ 
not  to  be  bothered  with  it.  It  is  claimed 
they  must  follow  their  interests;  that  is,  apparently, 
their  caprices.  What  right  hav^e  we  to  impose  our  likes 
on  them?  They  surely  should  be  as  free  as  others  to 
express  their  whole  nature  without  let  or  hindrance. 

On  the  other  side  there  are  still  advocates  of  the  idea 
that  the  natural  man  is  full  of  evil  desires,  so  that  the 
very  fact  that  a  child  wants  a  thing  is  one  good  reason 
why  he  should  not  have  it.  Moreover,  say  these  duty- 
lovers,  life  is  full  of  disagreeable  things  that  must  be 
done.  No  one  can  succeed  who  does  not  learn  to  do 
cheerfully  tasks  that  he  dislikes.  All  progress  is  made 
only  by  pain  and  suffering  in  giving  up  our  natural 
desires  and  in  struggling  toward  our  ideal,  which  we 
see  is  right  but  do  not  yet  love.  Therefore,  say  these 
stern  teachers,  the  truest  kindness  consists  in  training 
our  children  to  do  work  that  they  do  not  like.  We 
should  not  appeal  to  their  interests,  but  rather  to  the 
right,  and  lead  them  to  make  their  interests  agree  with 
what  is  right.  The  happiness  of  a  child  is  of  very 
little  account  if  only  he  is  led  into  the  paths  of  right- 
eousness. So  hold  the  two  extremes.  Probably 
the  majority  of  parents  and  teachers  hold  a  middle 
ground,  not  believing  either  that  the  child  should 
be   wholly  indulged    or   thwarted,    and    indulging   or 


2  ig  THE   CHILD 

thwarting-  according  to  their  own  particular  likes.  The 
mother  who  likes  cabbage  and  does  not  like  tomatoes, 
will  usualU'  fcrd  her  child  the  same  way.  The  father 
who  never  lies,  but  finds  it  easy  to  criticise  or  back- 
bite his  neighbor,  will  probably  rebuke  falsehood  but 
let  backbiting  go  unscathed.  The  parent  who  dislikes 
arithmetic  and  enjoys  history  finds  it  easy  to  condone 
his  child's  stupidity  in  the  first  but  not  in  the  second. 
In  all  cases  we  seem  to  lack  any  standard  by  which  we 
judge  whether  or  not  a  given  trait  in  our  child  should 
be  encouraged,  whether  or  not  he  should  be  given  free- 
dom to  develop  his  own  natural  st'lf. 

Now  it  is  unquestionably  a  difficult  thing  to  know 
what  we  shall  do  in  any  given  case.  On  the  one  side, 
we  want  our  children  to  grow  up  good  citizens,  good 
members  of  the  family,  and  seekers  after  righteousness. 
On  the  other,  we  do  not  want  them  to  be  confined,  fear- 
ful, distrustful  of  self;  we  wish  them  to  live  abroad,  free 
life,  to  feel  the  swing  and  delight  of  power,  and  to  live 
with  force  and  vigor.  Between  the  two  we  stand  puzzled. 

If  what  we  have  said  of  social  recapitulation  be  true, 
a    child    is    at    birth    a    bundle    of    strong    but    vague 
impulses  and   instincts  that  have  come  to 
Race  inter-      j^j^^^  ^^.^^^^^  numberless  ancestors,   that   press 
ests  vs.  indi-  .  .  . 

viduai  him    into   constant  action   m   this  way   and 

interests.        j^^   ^^^^.^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  cause  great  unhappiness 

and  dwarfed  development  if  repressed. 

We  have  had  very  elaborate  theories  worked  out  of 
these  race-stages  or  culture-epochs,  through  which  each 
child  passes,  and  the  ])r()i)er  studies  for  him  at  each 
stage,  but  such  theories  can  not  be  said  to  have  scien- 
tific value  as  yet.  We  can  not  say  that  because  the 
race  has  gone  through  a  certain   stage,   therefore  the 


INTERESTS  249 

child  must  go  through  it.  We  must  instead  study  chil- 
dren, both  individually  and  collectively,  to  see  what 
race-stages  they  do  repeat  in  fact,  and  the  longer  this 
study  goes  on,  the  more  certain  it  is  that  only  certain 
steps  of  race-progress  are  repeated  in  the  individual. 

Still  further,  the  fact  that  a  child  is  in  a  certain  cul- 
ture-epoch, does  not  mean  that  he  must  have  only 
literature  of  that  epoch  to  nourish  his  mind.  It  means 
rather  that  he  is  interested  in  the  prominent  activity 
of  that  period,  and  wants  to  go  through  that  activity 
himself  in  the  rough. 

It  would  be  strange  indeed  if  these  impulses  were 
either  entirely  good  or  entirely  bad.  They  are  all  sur- 
vivals of  a  ruder  civilization,  and  their  value  can  be  de- 
termined not  merely  by  their  antiquity,  but  by  their 
adaptability  to  present-day  conditions.  The  habitual 
criminal  is  looked  upon  to-day  as  a  person  whose 
interests  belong  in  the  ages  when  violence  was  neces- 
sary to  self-preservation;  but  these  interests  are  not 
suited  to  civilized  life,  and  so  their  possessor  must 
give  them  up,  or  go  to  dwell  among  barbarians,  or  be 
confined  in  prison.  As  a  rule,  however,  these  instincts 
and  impulses  are  fluent  enough  to  take  the  usual  social 
channels.  It  is  the  task  of  the  parent  and  teacher  to 
provide  outlets  which  will  utilize  these  streams  of 
energy,  instead  of  damming  them. 

The  training  of  interests  consists,  then,  primarily  in 
directing  impulse  and  instinct  to  a  worthy  end,  by  all 
means  —  suggestion,     good     surroundings.      Direction 

stimulation  of  curiosity,  and  soon.      If  an     better  than 
,  ,  1         J  4.  repression, 

impulse   can  be  so  employed    as    to    con- 
tribute to  the  family  life,  the  best  possible   thing   is 
done.      If  conditions  do  not  allow  of  this,  at  least  the 


2  CO  THE   CHILD 

parents  can  take  a  rational  attitude  toward  the  chil- 
dren, instead  of  assumin},^  that  all  the  children  want  is 
to  make  trouble.  We  find,  for  instance,  that  as  a  rule 
parents  are  decidedly  opposed  to  their  boys  digging 
caves.  Under  the  usual  conditions,  where  the  cave  is 
made  a  rendezvous  for  smoking  and  reading  dime 
novels,  there  is  good  reason  for  objection.  But  are 
such  conditions  necessary?  Surely  not.  So  again, 
little  children  who  run  away  do  it  usually  because  their 
own  yard  is  so  small  and  their  companions  are  so  few 
that  they  can  not  resist  temptation.  Instead  of  for- 
bidding them  the  freedom,  we  should  rather  exert  our 
ingenuity  to  make  the  freedom  safe,  for  through  such 
wanderings  a  child  acquires  valuable  independence, 
gets  a  sense  of  direction  and  distance,  and  makes  his 
first  venture  into  the  social  world  outside  the  home. 

In  general,  then,  we  may  say  that  we  should  not 
condemn  a  child's  impulses  unless  they  are  of  such  a 
definite,  fixed,  and  base  nature  as  to  work  decided 
harm  to  himself  or  others.  We  should  not  try  to 
repress  impulses  so  much  as  to  direct  them  into  useful 
channels  by  suggesting  to  the  children  definite  and 
valuable  ends  to  be  accomplished. 

REFERENCES 

Allin,  A.     Social  Recapitulation.     Ediic.  Rev.,  1899,  344-352. 
Baldwin,  J.  Mark.     Genesis  of  Social  Interests.     Monist,    1897, 

340-357.     (Same  as  in  Mental  Developmetit.) 
Mentat  DeTetopiiienf,  Social  a7id  Ethical  Interpretations. 

See  Index.     N,  Y.     Macmillan,  §2.60. 
Burk,  C.  F.     Collecting  Instinct.     Fed.  Sem.,  1900,  179-207. 
Burk,  F.,  and  Frear,  C.     Study  of  Kindergarten  Problem.     San 

Francisco.     Whitaker,  §0.50. 
Dawson,  G.  E.      Children's  Interest  in  tlie  Bible.      Pcd.   Sem., 

1900,  151-178. 


INTERESTS  2  c;  I 

Dewey,  J.  Interest  as  Related  to  Will.  First  Herbartian  Year 
Boo/c,  iSgS-  Second  Supplement.  Chicago.  University  of 
Chicago  Pre.ss.     (Excellent  on  the  theory  of  Interest.) 

Guillet,   C.      Recapitulation  and    Education.      /Vv/.    Scm.,    igoo, 

397-445- 
Hall,  G.  S.     Children's  Collections.     Fed.  Scm.,  1891,  234-236. 
Hancock.      Mental    Differences  of  Children.     Proc.   N.   E.   A  , 

1897,  851-857. 
Harris,  W.  T.     Interest  and  Will.     Education,  March,  i8q6. 

Psychologic  Foundations  of  Education.     See  Index.     N.  Y. 

Appleton,  $1.50. 
Hogan,  Louise.     Study  of  a  Child.     Harper-' s,  June,  1898. 
Jones,  H.     Social  and  Individual  Evolution.     Nczu  World,  1898, 

453-469- 
Kline,   L.   W.      Truancy  as  Related  to  the  Migrating  Instinct. 

Ped.  Sem.,  Vol.  V.,  381-420. 
Lawrence,    Isabel.      Children's   Interests  in   Literature.      Proc. 

N  E.  A.,  1899,  1044-51. 
Luckey,  G.  W.  A.     Practical    Results    Obtained  from  Studj'^  of 

Children's  Interest.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1897,  p.  284. 
McMurry,  C.     Interest.     Ed.  Rev.,  February,  1896. 
Monroe,   W.   J.     Social  Consciousness  of  Children.     Proc.   N.  E. 

A.,   1898,  921-92S. 
Ostermann,  W.     I  filer  est  in  Its  Relation  to  Pedagogy.     N.  Y. 

Kellogg,  $1.00. 
Perkins.  F.  B.      Childhood:      A  Study.      Atlantic  Mont/tly,No\. 

XVIII. 
Rein  (Van  Liew's  translation).     Outlines   of  Pedagogics.      See 

Index.     Syracuse.     Bardeen,  $1.25. 
Rooper,  T.  G.      TJie  C/iild:  His  Studies  and  Occiipations.     N.  Y. 

Kellogg,  $0.15. 
St.  John,  G.  E.      Children's    Interests.     C.  S.  M.,  Vol.   III.,  284. 
Vandewalker,    Nina.      Culture-Epoch     Theory.       Educ.     Rev., 

January-May,  1898,  374-391.     (Very  good.) 
Van  Liew,  C.  E.    Culture-Epoch  Theory.    First  Herbartian  Year 

Book.     Chicago.     University  of  Chicago  Press. 
Wilson,  W.  E.     Doctrine  of  Interest.     Ed,  Rev.,  March,  1896. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Impulsive,  Reflex  and  Instinctive  Movements 

1.  Keep  a  record  of  the  development  in  some  indi- 
vidual child  of  the  movements  described  in  this  chap- 
Observa-  ter.  (i)  Impulsive  movements.  Note 
tions.  especially  the  j)Osture  of  the  baby  in  sleep. 
When  does  a  child  begin  to  sleep  lying  straight? 
(2)  Reflex  movements.  Note  especially  whether,  in 
cases  of  tickling  or  of  brushing  away  an  object,  the  baby 
uses  the  right  hand  or  the  hand  on  the  same  side  of 
the  body.  That  is,  is  he  right-handed  from  birth,  and 
if  not,  when  does  right-handedness  appear?  Note  also 
the  earliest  inhibitions  of  movements.  (3)  Instinc- 
tive movements.  Note  especially  to  what  degree  the 
baby  is  impeded  by  long  clothes.  Watch  for  a  climb- 
ing instinct.  If  possible,  take  instantaneous  photo- 
graphs of  the  nude  baby's  positions  in  learning  these 
movements. 

2.  Gather  reminiscences  from  young  people  or  adults 
of  any  one  of  the  following  instincts:  migrating 
instinct  (running  away  from  home) ;  hunting  instinct; 
cave-digging  instinct;  tent-living  instinct;  collecting 
instinct.      In  all  cases  note: 

(i)  Age  when  the  instinct  developed. 

(2)  Length  of  time  that  it  lasted. 

(3)  Circumstances  that  called  it  out. 

(4)  S.trength.     How  much  could   it  withstand  in  the 

252 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     253 

way  of  inducements  to  other  sports,  commands 
of  parents  against  indulging  in  it,  etc.? 
(5)  Is  there  any  tendency  to   it  now,  such   as  hunt- 
ing  trips,    camping,    etc        After    how    long   a 
period  is  this  ? 

With  the  discussion  of  movements  we  enter  upon  the 
last  stage  of  our  subject — the  child's  doing.  Here,  as 
in  other  cases,  we  are  not  preserving  a  introduc- 
strictly  chronological  order  in  our  descrip-  *^o^* 
tion,  for  as  a  matter  of  fact  thinking  and  doing  go 
hand  in  hand  in  mental  development,  each  requiring 
the  other  in  order  for  it  to  get  beyond  the  rudimentary 
stages.  So  close  is  this  connection  that  in  the  chapter 
on  Perception  we  were  obliged  to  anticipate  this  phase 
of  the  subject  by  discussing  grasping  in  connection  with 
seeing,  and  now  in  considering  movements,  we  shall 
be  referring  constantly  to  the  stimulus  to  movement 
given  by  the  senses. 

In  thus  discussing  feeling,  thinking,  and  doing  sep- 
arately, we  have  been  guided  principally  by  the  desire 
to  show  clearly  the  continuity  of  the  development  of 
each  mental  process  from  birth  to  maturity,  showing, 
for  instance,  how  the  character  of  conceptions  and  of 
religious  ideas  develops  as  the  child  matures.  In  thus 
abstracting  each  mental  process  from  the  others  in 
which  it  is  embedded,  we  do  as  does  the  dissector,  who 
follows  out  before  his  class  the  course  of  but  one  nerve 
or  blood-vessel,  ignoring  for  the  time  the  complex  of 
other  nerves,  blood-vessels  and  tissues  that  enmesh  it. 
Such  a  separation  is  imperative  for  purposes  of  study, 
but  it  is  only  preliminary  to  the  attempt  to  see  as  a 
whole   the   living  organism   in  which   each  nerve  and 


THE   CHILD 


blood-vessel  plays  its  part.  So  now  that  the  growth 
of  the  child's  body  and  of  his  mind  has  been  studied, 
as  far  as  the  prt-scnt  state  of  child-stiid\'  obserxations 
allows,  comes  at  last  the  consideration  of  how  he,  with 
his  body  as  a  tool,  learns  to  express  his  thought;  for 
in  this  expressit)n  the  whole  childish  self  is  most 
clearly  revealed. 

Precedent  to  the  child's  conscious  and  voluntary 
expression  of  thought,  howevc-r,  is  a  stage  during 
which  he  has  little  or  no  control  over  his  movem<ints. 
The  activities  at  this  stage  do  indeed  express  to  us  the 
baby's  condition  and  his  traits  as  a  member  of  the 
human  race,  but  he  does  not  intend  to  express  himself 
thus,  and  is  unable  either  to  make  or  prevent  his 
movements  x'oluntarily. 

Impulsive  movements  are  also  called   spontaneous, 

random,  or  automatic.      In  the  whole  discussion  of  the 

subject  there   is   great  variety  both   in   the 

Impulsive  terms  used  and  in  the  meanings  attached  to 
movements.  " 

the  terms.  Some  writers  class  as  instinc- 
tive what  others  call  reflex,  and  cithers  make  instinc- 
tive movements  cover  nearly  the  whole  range  of  human 
activities.  In  a  book  of  this  nature  it  would  be  useless 
and  confusing  to  discuss  and  weigh  such  conflicting 
claims.  We  shall  therefore  imitate  Tracy  in  using 
Prayer's  classification,  making  the  same  reservation 
that  Tracy  does  — that  the  use  of  Preyer's  classification 
does  not  bind  us  to  accept  his  theory  of  will. 

Impulsive  movements  are  movements  resulting  from 
changes  within  the  motor  nerve  cell  itself.  They 
seem  to  require  no  stimulus  from  outside,  and  no  sen- 
sory elements.  Many  embryonic  movements  are 
impulsive,  and  also  many  of  the  movements  present  at 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS    255 

birth,  although  their  variety  is  not  great.  There  are 
stretchings  and  bendings  of  arms  and  legs;  spreading 
and  bendings  of  fingers  and  toes;  striking  with  the 
arms;  stretching  after  waking;  all  sorts  of  grimaces; 
movements  of  the  eyeballs  before  the  eyes  are  opened; 
Growings  and  babblings;  and  the  "accompanying 
movements,"  such  as  movements  of  the  arms  on  hear- 
ing music  or  seeing  bright  colors  or  tasting  agreeable 
food. 

The  better  the  health  and  feeding  of  the  child,  the 
more  numerous  and  vigorous  are  the  movements  likely 

to  be.     Their  general  use  is  evidently  that 

^         .  ,  Direction  of 

they  serve  as  exercises  to  prepare  the  mus-    themove- 

cles    for    later    instinctive    and    voluntary    nients. 
action,  and  Mumford  believes  that  they  are  also  ves- 
tiges of  movements  that  once  were  useful  in  the  bodily 
economy  but  are  no  longer  so.      They  are  decaying 
instincts,  so  to  speak. 

Why  they  take  the  particular  form  that  they  do 
seems  to  depend  upon  the  prenatal  posture  and  the 
bodily  structure  at  the  time  of  birth,  as  Trettien 
shows.  The  arm  and  leg  movements  are  at  first  always 
in  line  with  the  body,  that  is,  forward  and  back  or  up 
and  down,  never  out  and  in.  In  the  case  of  the  arms 
this  seems  to  be  due  especially  to  the  shape  of  the 
chest  and  shoulders.  As  the  back  straightens  and  the 
chest  expands,  side  movements  become  easier.  With 
both  arms  and  legs,  the  up  and  down  movement  is 
also  the  most  natural  on  account  of  the  habitual  pos- 
ture of  the  baby.  Trettien  shows  the  habitual  posi- 
tions of  arms  and  hands  at  great  length  thus:* 

*The  tables  are  based  on  different  numbers  of  children,  vary- 
ing from  58  to  182.     In  all  cases  the  tables  are  given  in  per  cents. 
17 


256 


THE  CHILD 


Position 

Male 

Female 

Average 

Fingers — 

Clenched 

83% 
12 

5 

Cq 
31 

100 

06 
34 

98 
2 

87% 
4 
9 

65 

35 

96 
4 

68 
32 

92 
8 

85 
8 

Bent 

Straight 

7 

07 

33 

98 

0 

Wrists — 

Bent 

Straijrht 

Elbows — 

Bent 

Straight 

Shouldkrs — 

Bent 

67 

Straight 

33 

95 
5 

Arms — 

Laid  in  front 

Laid  at  side 

The  legs  are  habitually  bent  at  the  hips  and  knees, 
the  feet  crossed,  the  soles  turned  toward  the  median 
line  and  the  toes  curled  down  over  the  soles.  The 
whole  body  tends  to  assume  the  curve  of  the  prenatal 
position.  With  such  an  habitual  posture  for  trunk, 
arms  and  legs,  and  fingers  and  toes,  what  other  move- 
ments are  probable  except  the  stretching  of  the  back, 
the  unbending  of  arms  and  legs,  and  the  spreading  of 
fingers  and  toes? 

These  movements,  as  we  can  easily  see,  foreshadow 
the  later  movements — the  arm  movements  those  of 
reaching  and  grasping,  the  leg  movements  those  of 
walking.  We  cannot  so  easily  explain  the  extraordi- 
nary grimaces  which  often  possess  the  baby's  face  at 
this  time,  but  they  probably  mark  the  first  paths  of  the 
facial  expression  which  is  to  come  later.  We  find  that 
as  voluntary  mo\ements  increase,  impulsive  ones 
decrease  in  the  normal  person.  Numerous  connec- 
tions between  the  sensory  and  the  motor  centers  are 
formed  by  education  and  experience  so  that  the  trend  of 


Reflex  move- 
ments. 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     2^7 

development  is  away  from  impulsive  movements  rather 
than  toward  them.  Yet  Compayre  maintains  that  some 
persist  even  in  the  adult. 

Reflex  movements  differ  from  impulsive  in  that  they 
require  a  peripheral  stimulus  to  call  them  out,  but, 
like  them,  no  atT:ention  or  idea  is  necessary 
for  the  performance.  They  are  inherited, 
but  the  baby  performs  them  more  slowly 
and  imperfectly  at  first  than  later.  This  is  a  decided 
advantage,  for  the  baby  has  no  power  to  inhibit  move- 
ments for  some  time  after  birth,  and  if  the  reflexes 
were  easily  started,  he  would  be  subject  to  convulsions. 

Reflex  movements  may  be  called  out  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  prenatal  life  by  gentle  stroking  or  by 
changes  of  temperature.  After  birth,  they  are 
numerous.  Most  important  of  all  is  the  group  of 
periodic  reflexes,  under  which  come  the  various  actions 
necessary  to  sustain  life.  To  this  group  belong  all  the 
actions  connected  with  respiration.  Breathing  is 
itself  a  reflex  act,  due  to  the  stimulation  of  the 
air,  and  the  cry  of  the  newborn  child  is  caused  by 
the  spasmodic  action  of  the  larynx  when  the  air 
reaches  it.  At  first  the  breathing  is  very  irregular  and 
rapid,  sometimes  almost  ceasing,  and  then  continuing 
with  greater  force  and  rapidity.  In  the  seventh  week 
there  are  about  twenty-eight  respirations  to  the  min- 
ute; in  the  twenty-eighth  month,  about  twenty-two, 
but  even  then  a  stimulus  which  is  insufficient  to  wake 
the  sleeping  child  will  cause  a  rapid  increase  in  the 
number  of  respirations. 

Sneezing  is  possible  even  at  birth,  and  with  some 
babies  takes  the  place  of  the  first  cry.  Preyer  pro- 
duced it  on    the  thirty-eighth  day  by  pouring  warm 


=■58 


THE   CHILD 


water  on  the  baby's  forehead;  and  on  the  one  hundred 
and  seventieth  day  by  merely  blowing  in  his  face.  The 
baby's  eyes  are  always  closed  in  sneezing. 

Swallowing  is  present  even  before  birth.  Coughing 
has  been  observed  in  the  first  hour;  choking  and  hic- 
coughing on  the  first  day;  yawning  on  the  seventh  day; 
wheezing  and  snoring  on  the  twenty-fourth  day;  and 
sobbing  not  until  considerably  later,  about  the  seventh 
month  in  Preyer's  boy. 

Other  important  periodic  reflexes  are  the  heart-beat, 
the  contraction  and  relaxation  of  the  arteries,  the 
movements  of  the  bowels,  and  so  on.  Regurgitation, 
which  occurs  as  early  as  the  first  week,  should  also  be 
mentioned  here. 

Among  reflexes  that  are  not  periodic  should  be  men- 
tioned the  group  of  eye-reflexes.  In  describing  the 
development  of  sight  these  were  discussed,  and  so 
need  only  be  mentioned  here. 

The  entire  body  reacts  to  get  rid  of  unpleasant 
stimuli,  even  from  birth,  although  it  requires  a  stronger 
stimulus  then  than  later.  The  pain-reflexes  are  the  least 
developed  of  all  at  birth.  A  baby  can  be  pricked  with 
a  pin,  even  until  the  blood  comes  in  some  cases,  with- 
out reacting. 

But  there  is  a  stronger  response  to  some  other 
stimuli.  Within  five  minutes  of  birth  the  toes  will 
spread  out  if  tickled,  and,  like  the  hands,  will  clasp 
any  object  laid  within  them.  The  reflex  hand-clasp  is 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  for  its  perfection  and 
strength.  Robinson  examined  sixty  newborn  children 
and  found  that  within  one  hour  after  birth  they  could 
all  hang  suspended  from  a  stick  by  their  hands,  for  a 
time  varying  from  two  seconds  to  one  minute.     Twelve 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE   MOVEMENTS     259 

hung  for  one-half  minute  and  four  for  one  minute 
without  crying  or  showing  any  signs  of  distress.  The 
strength  of  grip  increased  up  to  the  third  week,  when 
several  hung  for  one  and  one-half  minutes.  Here 
there  seems  to  be  a  distinct  survival  of  arboreal  life 
habits,  when  the  baby  had  to  cling  to  its  climbing 
mother  in  order  to  preserve  its  own  life.  All  the  arm 
reflexes  are  stronger  at  first  than  the  leg  reflexes,  and 
the  arms  are  relatively  more  developed  than  the  legs. 

Other  reflex  movements  occur  to  escape  persistent 
stimuli.  Preyer  found  that  in  tickling  the  temple  the 
baby  usually  used  the  right  hand  to  brush  away  the 
object;  while  Pflliger  maintains  that  the  hand  on  the 
same  side  is  used  as  a  rule. 

At  first,  as  mentioned  above,  a  baby  has  no  control 
over  its  reflex  movements;  they  must  follow  when  the 
stimulus  is  given,  whether  he  wishes  them  or  not. 
Preyer  dates  the  first  inhibitions  between  the  ninth  and 
twelfth  months  when  the  child  begins  to  show  some 
slight  control  over  boweP  movements;  but,  although 
observations  are  lacking,  one  may  fairly  question 
whether  before  this  time  there  are  not  some  inhibitions 
of  arm  and  leg  reflexes  or  of  those  connected  with 
respiration.  In  all  cases  the  control  is  irregular  at 
first,  and  fails  if  the  child  is  tired,  inattentive  or  not 
well. 

Instinct  is  differently  defined  by  different  writers, 

and  the  distinction  between  it  and  reflexes  is  by  no 

means   hard   and   fast.      Instinctive   move- 

t-rr      c  a  4.       Instinctive 

ments  seem  to  differ  from  reflex  movements    movements, 

principally  in  being  more  complex  and   in 
having  a  less  developed  mechanism  for  their  perform- 
ance than  reflexes  have. 


25o  "^"^   CHILD 

Instinctive  acts  arc  inherited,  that  is,  there  is  an 
inborn  disposition  to  their  performance,  but  they 
require  a  stimulus  to  start  them,  and  they  may  be 
greatly  modified  or  even  suppressed  by  training.  They 
are  acts  which  have  been  serviceable  to  the  race  and 
are  present  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  in  every  mem- 
ber of  it,  but  in  man  they  vary  so  in  their  manifesta- 
tions that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  know  what  actions 
have  an  instinctive  root  and  what  have  not.  There 
are,  however,  certain  acts  which  are  clearly  instinc- 
tive. 

In  this  list  belong  sucking,  biting,  chewing,  grinding 

the  teeth,  and   licking.     Sucking  comes  the  nearest  of 

Movements      any  of  these  to  a  reflex  act,  and  is  some- 

centering        times  classed  as  one  because  brainless  chil- 

about  the 

moutii.  dren  perform  it  as  well  as  normal  ones.     It 

is  usually  complete  at  birth,  but   in  some  cases  has  to 

be  partially  taught.     It  lasts  in  its  full  strength   until 

the  first  teeth  come,  but  as  we  have  already  noted,  for 

a  long  time  most  objects  go  to  the  child's  mouth  to  be 

sucked  and  licked  before  the  child  feels  that  he  really 

knows  them,  and   even  the  adult  likes  at  times  to  put 

something   into  his   mouth  to  suck.      Licking   usually 

accompanies  sucking,  and  is   present  even   on  the  first 

day. 

Biting  and  chewing  are  instinctive  acts  which  may 

appear  as  early  as  the  fourth  month,  before  any  teeth 

are  through.     A  baby  will   bite  and  chew  his  fingers, 

his   rattle,  the  glass  he  drinks  out   of,  etc.      Grinding 

the  teeth  also  appears  to  be  a  regular  occupation.     It 

may  be  done  when    but  two  teeth   are   through,  but 

usually  not   until   about  the   ninth    month,  when   four 

teeth  are  through. 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     26  I 

At  birth  the  ability  of  children  to  lift  their  heads 
varies  considerably.  In  some  even  on  the  first 
day,  there  is  enough  surplus  energy  to 
lift  the  head  from  its  support;  in  others,  fn^e^^^^V^ 
not  until  the  second  or  third  week.  The 
neck  muscles  are  very  small  at  birth,  and  increase  in 
their  growth  to  nine  times  their  original  size  at  matu- 
rity. At  first  the  head,  when  unsupported,  drops  on 
the  chest  and  rolls  to  one  side.  Preyer  maintains  that 
the  dropping  is  not  due  to  muscular  weakness,  but  to 
lack  of  will,  because  even  in  the  first  week  the  head 
can  turn  to  follow  a  moving  light.  This  does  not 
prove  much,  however,  for  the  same  muscles  are  not 
used  in  raising  the  head  as  in  moving  it  from  side  to 
side. 

Miss  Shinn  records  that  at  the  end  of  the  first  month 
her  niece  could  hold  up  her  head  unsteadily  for  a  few 
seconds,  and  by  the  end  of  the  second  month  could 
hold  it  steadily  and  continuously.  Preyer's  records 
date  the  act  between  the  eleventh  and  sixteenth  weeks, 
while  Demme's  observations  on  one  hundred  and 
fifty  children  place  the  event  between  the  third  and 
fourth  months  for  strong  children;  at  four  and  one- 
half  months  for  moderately  strong  ones,  and  in  the 
fifth  or  sixth  month  for  weakly  ones. 

The  child  has  a  strong  incentive  to  hold  the  head  up 
after  the  sixth  or  eighth  week,  for  then  convergence 
and  accommodation  of  the  eyes  are  established,  so 
that  he  can  see  clearly.  The  attempts  to  raise  the 
head  not  only  strengthen  the  neck  muscles,  but  those 
of  the  back  and  chest  as  well,  so  that  they  prepare  the 
child  for  erect  sitting,  which  follows  almost  imme- 
diately. 


262  THE   CHILD 

W'c  have  described  the  development  of  this  instinct 
Reachingand  '^t  length  in  the  chapter  on  Sensation  and 
grasping.         Perception. 

After  the  baby  can  see  distinctly  and  has  learned  to 
hold  his  head  up,  he  is  \'ery  likely  to  resent  being  laid 
down  in  his  crjl),  although  before  he  was 
erea°^  well   satisfied  with   that   position.      Now  he 

insists  upon  a  sitting  position,  where  he 
can  see  the  fascinating  world  about  him.  This  desire 
to  sit  up  comes  between  the  second  and  fourth  months 
as  a  rule,  and  the  baby  will  make  all  sorts  of  efforts  to 
lift  himself  by  a  supporting  finger,  or  by  strain  of  the 
abdominal  muscles.  He  is  very  unlikely  to  succeed, 
howe\'er,  unless  he  is  somewhat  raised  to  begin  with, 
for  neither  back  nor  abdomen  are  strong  enough  alone. 

A  baby  who  thus  wants  to  see  but  cannot  sit  alone, 
should  be  prox'ided  with  a  cushioned  support  that  will 
support  and  }'et  yiclJ  t  >  movements,  so  that  he  can 
carry  on  his  education  without  harm  to  himself.  He  will 
also  get  practice  in  sitting  in  his  bath  and  in  laps,  and 
by  some  time  betw'een  the  fifth  and  eighth  months  will 
be  able  to  sit  alone  on  a  hard  smooth  surface.  By  the 
eleventh  month  the  bab}''s  seat  is  firm,  although  when 
reaching  for  things  he  sometimes  tips  over. 

Both  Preyer  and  Trettien  insist  that  a  baby  should 
rather  be  discouraged  than  encouraged  to  sit  alone, 
and  that  the  back  should  at  first  be  supported  by  a  pil- 
low. Preyer  says  that  he  should  not  be  allowed  to  sit 
up  until  he  has  proved  his  fitness  by  raising  himself  with- 
out encouragement  from  a  prone  to  a  sitting  position. 

The  first  sitting  position  is  very  awkward.  Usually 
the  knees  are  bent  and  the  soles  turned  toward  each 
other  like  a  monkey's. 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     26^^ 

In  learning  to  walk,  there  are  several  well-defined 

stages.     In  the  first  place,  long  before  the  babv  makes 

any  attempts  to  move  from  the  place  where 

.....  .  Locomotion. 

he  IS  laid,  his  legs  as  well  as  his  arms  make 

various  movements.  These  are,  as  we  have  seen, 
impulsive  at  first,  but  later  they  become  a  source  of 
great  pleasure  to  the  baby,  and  by  the  third  or  fourth 
month  he  is  kicking  up  his  legs  as  much  as  his  elabo- 
rate clothing  will  allow.  The  movements  become 
rhythmic  and  alternating,  evidently  an  advance 
towards  stepping,  and  by  the  seventh  month,  he  will 
straighten  and  press  his  legs  against  an  opposing  sur- 
face and,  if  held  up,  begin  to  take  steps.  He  also 
enjoys  standing  when  supported.  He  is  still,  however, 
very  far  from  independent  walking,  and  goes  through 
at  least  one  preliminary  stage,  and  often  two  or  three, 
which  are  useful  in  strengthening  the  various  muscles 
that  will  later  be  used  in  walking. 

When  a  baby  is  strong  enough,  if  laid  on  his  back, 
he  will  roll  over  onto  his  stomach,  sometimes  just  for 
love  of  the  movement,  sometimes  accident- 

,,.  ,.  r  ^    •  Ti/r  ttii)  Rolling. 

ally  in  reaching  for  an  object.  Mrs.  Hall  s 
baby  turned  from  side  to  back  in  the  ninth  week,  but 
not  from  side  to  side  until  the  middle  of  the  seventh 
month,  and  Miss  Shinn's  niece  began  her  career  of 
rolling  near  the  end  of  the  sixth  month,  and  con- 
tinued it  with  increasing  vigor  up  to  the  eighth  month, 
when  creeping  began.  "She  would  now  roll  over  and 
over  in  any  direction,  not  to  get  anywhere  in  partic- 
ular, but  just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  She  varied  the 
exercise  with  the  most  lively  kicking,  the  heels  raised 
in  the  air  and  brought  down  together  with  astonishing 
vigor  and  zest;    or  with  twisting  about  and  getting  on 


264 


THE   CHILD 


hands  and  knees,  or  even  on  hands  and  feet,  prattling 
joyously  and  having  a  beautiful  time  all  by  herself  for 
as  long  as  the  authorities  would  leave  her  alone." 

Instead  of  rolling,  some  babies  stumble  upon  hitch- 
ing. They  jerk  themselves  along  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  backwards  or  forwards,  in  a  most  ungainly 
fashion.  Where  there  is  hitching  it  may  precede  creep- 
ing, or  may  take  its  place.  Trettien  gives  the  following 
per  cents,  based  on  returns  from  seventy-five  boys  and 
seventy-five  girls,  to  show  the  usual  mode  of  locomo- 
tion: Of  the  one  hundrcd'and  fifty  children,  60  p^ 
cent  of  them  crept,  30  per  cent  hitched,  7  per  cent 
rolled,  and  3  per  cent  crawled,  humped,  made  swim- 
ming movements,  etc.  He  does  not  note  in  how  many 
of  these  children  both  creeping  and  some  other  form 
of  locomotion  preceded  walking. 

By  the  sixth  or  seventh   month  a  baby  begins  to  get 

up  onto  his   hands  and   knees,  and   now   and    then    to 

stretch   or  scramble  for  something  that   he 
Creeping.  ,  .         ,  . 

wants.     Some  time  between  the  eighth  and 

eleventh  months  he  begins  really  to  creep.     Here  also 

we  find  all  sorts  of  odd  ways.      Of  the  babies  Trettien 

watched,   6   per   cent   crept  backward   at   first.      Both 

Miss  Shinn  and   Mrs.  Hall  record  this.     It  is  due  to 

the  fact  that  the  baby's  arms  are  stronger  than  his  legs 

and  are  predisposed  to  push  instead  of  to  pull,  so  that 

until   he  has   learned  to  coordinate   his  movements,  he 

pushes  himself  away  from   the  object  he  wants,  instead 

of  toward  it.     Much  to  his  amazement  and  displeasure 

he  finds  it  moving  away  instead  (jf  ai)proaching  him. 

However,  he  soon  learns  better. 

The   relative    movements   of    hands    and    knees    are 

almost  as  varied  as  the  number  of  these  members  will 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     265 

allow.     Some  babies  move  with  the  opposite  hand  and 

knee  down  at  once,  but  just  as  many  move  like  pacers, 

with  the  hand  and  knee  of  the  same  side  down  at  once. 

A  fairly  large  proportion  use  arms  and  hands  alone, 

dragging  the  body  and  legs;    and  almost  as  many  go 

on  hands  and  feet  instead  of  knees.     Others  crawl  like 

snakes,  with  the  arms  close  to  the  sides  and  the  legs 

almost    straight;    and   still   others   hump    like   worms, 

drawing  the   legs  up  and   then  stretching  the  arms  and 

body  forward.     In  all  cases  there  are,  of  course,  many 

unnecessary  movements  made  at  first  that  are  dropped 

by  degrees. 

We  have  already  seen  that  even  at  birth  the  baby's 

clasp  is  strong  enough  to   support  him  hanging,  and 

that  the  first  efforts  to  sit  up  are  as  a  rule 

.  Climbing, 

preceded  by  pulling  himself  up  from  a  lying 

to  a  sitting  position.     The  muscles  of  arms  and  hands 

are  relatively  stronger  than  at  any  other  time  of  life, 

and  we  should   naturally  expect  from  this  fact  a  stage 

when  the  baby's  desire  to  use  them  would  be  marked, 

that  is,   a  climbing  stage.      Preyer,   careful  observer 

though  he  was,  does  not  even  refer  to  such  a  stage, 

although  he  gives  a  detailed  account  of  seizing.  On  the 

other  hand,  all  the  accounts  of  learning  to  stand  show 

how  important  a  factor  is  the  ability  of  the  child   to 

pull   himself  to  an  erect  position,  and  Miss  Shinn  and 

others  have  observed  and  described  the  climbing  stage. 

It  seems  probable  that  climbing  is  a  genuine  instinct, 

dating   back  to   the   time  when   men   lived   chiefly  in 

trees,  when   strength  of  arm  and  grasp  were  essential 

for  life.      But   in   babies   the   instinct  is  so  promptly 

repressed    by   fearful    mothers,    and    so    impeded    by 

the  baby's  clothes,  as   is  also   his   creeping,    that   the 


256  "^"^    CHILD 

discouraged  child  turns  to  some  substitute  instead  of 
delighting  in  it  as  Miss  Shinn's  ni-cc  did.  Such 
repression  must  be  a  hindrance  to  the  development  of 
the  child's  lungs  and  back,  and  therefore  must  work 
direct  harm  to  his  health.  It  is  doubtless  often  diffi- 
cult for  the  mother  to  give  the  necessary  supervision 
to  the  climbing  if  it  is  allowed,  but  it  can  be  done  more 
frequently  than  it  is,  and  should  be  planned  for  as  far 
as  possible. 

When  not  repressed,  climbing  begins  at  about  the 
same  time  as  creeping,  and  is  shown  in  the  baby's 
attempts  to  climb  over  the  person  holding  him,  to 
climb  into  chairs  and  onto  beds  and  table,  and  above 
all  by  his  insatiate  desire  to  creep  up  and  down  stairs. 
In  the  mounting  process  there  is  really  little  danger, 
if  the  thing  he  is  climbing  is  solid,  for  his  grasp  is  very 
strong;  but  in  descending,  the  baby  is  likely  to  come 
head  first  like  any  animal  that  goes  on  all  fours,  and 
not  being  properly  proportioned  for  such  a  form  of 
movement,  he  falls.  If  a  mother  can  be  hard-hearted 
enough  to  let  him  get  a  few  bumps,  he  soon  learns  to 
come  down  backwards,  and  then  most  of  his  dangers 
are  over. 

Although  the  desire  to  climb  lessens  somewhat  after 
the  baby  has  learned  to  walk,  it  is  strong  all  through 
childhood,  as  is  seen  in  the  love  that  all  children  have 
for  climbing  trees,  houses,  and  so  on. 

Even  before  the  baby  has  begun  to  creep,  we  have 
seen  that  he  is  getting  exercises  preparatory  to  walk- 
ing in  his  alternate  kickings,  in  the  steady 
pressure  of  his  feet  agamst  opposing 
objects,  and  in  the  various  half-standing  positions 
that  he  assumes  when  held  in  the  lap  or  supported  on 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     26? 

the  tioor.  He  enjoys  these  exercises,  but  still  he 
shows  no  desire  to  assume  the  erect  position  when  left 
to  himself  until  he  has  been  creeping  for  some  time. 
Mrs.  Hall  notes  that  in  the  thirty-eighth  week,  her  boy 
pulled  himself  to  his  feet  by  the  aid  of  a  finger,  and 
stood  for  a  minute;  in  the  forty-eighth  week,  he 
pulled  himself  to  a  chair  and  stood  for  five  minutes, 
holding  on  with  one  hand  and  playing  with  the  other, 
.and  two  weeks  later  he  stood  so  for  half  an  hour. 
Preyer's  and  Miss  Shinn's  records  correspond  very 
closely  with  this,  but  all  note  that  the  baby  does  not 
feel  very  secure  on  his  feet  as  yet.  Demme's  records 
show  that  vigorous  children  usually  stand  alone 
between  the  fortieth  and  forty-second  weeks;  moder- 
ately strong  ones  between  the  forty-fifth  and  forty- 
eighth  weeks;  and  weakly  ones  about  the  twelfth 
month.  Trettien  says  that  the  first  standing  alone 
may  come  at  any  time  between  the  seventh  and  six- 
teenth months,  and  the  first  walking  alone  between  the 
tenth  month  and  the  second  year. 

By  the  time  that  the  child  has  become  accustomed  to 
stand  alone,  he  has  usually  been  given  some  lessons 
in  walking  and  has  been  shown  how  to  push  a  chair 
ahead  of  him.  A  baby  will  at  first  support  himself  by 
the  wall  or  by  the  furniture  in  going  for  what  he 
wants,  but  for  a  long  time  will  drop  down  to  creep 
when  he  comes  to  an  open  space.  He  can  often  walk 
well  when  supported  by  one  finger,  and  alone  when  he 
thinks  he  is  supported,  for  some  time  before  he  will 
walk  alone  if  he  knows  it.  There  is  a  fear  of  falling 
with  most  children  that  hinders  their  walking. 

Their  self-consciousness  is  shown  in  very  amusing 
ways.     One  little  girl  who  had  always  held  onto  her 


258  '^"^'    CHILD 

mother's  dress  while  walkinjj:,  one  day  seized  the 
scallops    of    her  own    skirt   and    walked    bravely    off, 

performing  a  feat  closely  analogous  to  the 
Self-con-  '  ■  .   .  , ,  ,  '     I        i. 

sciousnessa  famous  one  of  raising  oneself  by  one  s  boot- 
factor,  straps.  Professor  Hall's  daughter  chanced 
to  walk  alone  for  the  first  time  when  she  had  a  pair 
of  her  father's  cuffs  slipjjed  over  her  arms,  and  for 
several  days  she  could  walk  very  well  with  them  on, 
but  would  not  stir  a  step  without  them.  When  a 
child  is  not  being  constantly  urged  to  walk,  it  is  not 
infrequent  foi  him  to  take  his  first  independent  steps 
without  knowing  it,  in  his  eagerness  to  get  something 
that  he  wants.  But  as  soon  as  he  realizes  that  he  is 
going  alone,  while  he  may  be  very  proud  of  himself, 
he  promptly  falls,  and  may  not  try  again  for  some 
days  or  even  weeks.  Then  suddenly  he  walks  alone 
again,  and  each  day  makes  large  gains,  until  in  a  week 
or  so  walking  is  preferred  to  any  other  mode  of  loco- 
motion. 

The  date  when    walking  becomes  well   established 
varies  greatly.     Preyer  puts  it  in  the  sixty-eighth  week 

„^  „  for  his  son;  Mrs.  Hall  in  the  sixty-sixth  for 
When  walk-  ,  .  , 

ing  is  hers,  and  others  at  various  times  between  the 

established,  ^^yj^ifth  ^^nj  thirtieth  or  even  thirty-sixth 
months.  Where  there  are  a  number  of  children  in  the 
family  walking  will  be  learned  sooner,  and  of  course  a 
child  can  be  taught  to  walk  sooner  than  he  will  if  left  to 
himself.  This  is  not  a  wise  thing,  however,  unless  the 
child  is  three  or  four  yea-'s  old,  for  a  healthy  child 
usually  wants  to  walk  as  soon  as  his  muscles  and  bones 
are  strong  enough  to  bear  his  weight.  If  he  walks  too 
soon,  he  is  likely  to  be  bow-legged  or  knock-kneed. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  child  has  not  learned  to  walk 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     269 

by  the  time  lie  is  three  and  a  half  or  four  years  old,  a 
physician  should  be  consulted. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  when  children  first 
begin  to  walk  alone,  they  want  some  object  in  their 
hands  as  they  walk.  Is  it  [Kirtly  because  they  derive 
some  feeling  of  support  from  it,  and  partly  because 
they  feel  the  lack  of  the  constant  stimulation  of  the 
palms  that  they  had  when  creeping? 

The  first  walk  is  very  unsteady;  not  infrequently  it 
is  more  a  run,  a  trot  or  a  waddle  than  a  walk,  and  it  is 
usually  pigeon-toed.  Nevertheless,  undignified  though 
it  be,  it  opens  to  a  child  a  new  world  both  of  vision 
and  of  movement.  He  gets  new  views  of  things  when 
standing — views  which  are  to  persist  through  life;  the 
freedom  of  his  hands  allows  his  handling  and  fingering 
of  objects  to  go  on  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  walk- 
ing; and  the  exercise  of  his  legs  leads  to  marked 
changes  in  the  bodily  development.  His  appetite 
increases,  his  hours  of  sleep  lengthen,  and  his  general 
health  improves,  especially  if  he  is  a  sickl\'  child. 
His  disposition  is  likely  to  become  more  amiable. 

In  describing  these    stages   in   locomotion   we  have 
proceeded   as  if  the  growth  were  continuous,  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  it  is  not.     Some  movement 
will  appear,  be  practised  for  a  day  or  two     gro^t™^° 
and  then  be  neglected   for  several  weeks  or 
even   months.     Then   suddenly  it  will  reappear  and  be 
practised   diligently  until    it   is   learned.      Walking   is 
likely  to  be   interrupted   by  the  beginning  of  speech, 
and  vice  versa,  so  that  the  two   processes  of  learning 
to  walk  and  of  learning  to  speak,  which   stretch  over 
several   months,  have  periods  of  waxing  and  of  waning. 
As   far  as  I   know,  no  careful  observations  have  been 


JO 


THE    CHILD 


made  to  sec  what  laws  govern  tliis  periodicity  of 
growth,  and  it  is  a  subject  which  would  repay  investi- 
gation. 

The  sexual  instinct  has  already  been  discussed  in  a 
previous  chapter,  and  hence  will  only  be  mentioned 
Sexual  here.     Its    first    important    manifestations 

instinct.  come,  as  we  have  seen,  at  adolescence. 

Closely   connected   with    the    instinct   of  sex   is    the 

parental   instinct,  which  seems  also  to  be  the  center  of 

a  large  group  of  acts  which   are   not  com- 

Parentai  monlv    considered     instinctive.       We    can 

instinct. 

hardly  ciuestion  that  the  care  of  the  help- 
less young  is  instinctive,  but  we  do  not  usually  look 
upon  teaching  and  philanthropy  in  all  its  forms  as 
instinctive.  What  we  know  of  social  evolution,  how- 
ever, seems  to  point  to  the  fact  that  altruistic  activities 
in  general  have  been  the  outgrowth  of  the  instinct  to 
care  for  helpless  children.  The  original  instinct 
has  become  so  covered,  so  varied,  and  so  modified  in 
its  expressions,  that  it  seems  a  misuse  of  terms  to  call 
philanthropy  instinctive;  and  yet,  within  the  genuine 
philanthropist  there  is  some  impelling  force  that  can- 
not be  turned  aside  by  reasons  or  difficulties  or  even 
his  own  willing.  He  springs  to  relieve  the  suffering 
even  of  the  most  worthless  as  the  mother  springs  to 
snatch  her  child  from  danger. 

From  this  standpoint,  Mr.  Phillij^s  investigations 
as  to  the  existence  of  a  teaching  instinct  do  'not  seem 
unreasonable.  He  found  that  girls  play  dolls  and 
teacher  far  more  than  boys  do.  Out  of  one  hundred 
and  five  teachers,  fifty-one  had  desired  from  child- 
hood to  follow  that  profession;  seventeen  wanted  to 
at  the  age  of  twenty-three;    twenty-four  were  forced 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     271 

to  teach,  but  soon  grew  to  love  the  work;  and  only- 
four  heartily  disliked  it.  He  concludes  that  teaching 
is  probably  a  special  form  of  the  parental  instinct, 
manifesting  itself,  as  that  instinct  does,  more  strongly 
in  women  than  in  men. 

Besides  the  instinctive  movements  already  described, 
on  which  most  writers  are  agreed,  there  are  numerous 
other  groups  of  movements  which  one  or  a  otter  pos- 
few  writers  class  as  instinctive.  Among  sibie 
these  are  the  migrating  Instinct,  which  i^^stinc  s. 
appears  in  the  desire  to  run  away  that  most  children 
have;  the  hunting  instinct;  the  burrowing  instinct, 
appearing  in  fondness  for  cave-making;  the  swimming 
instinct;  the  tent-living  instinct;  the  collecting  instinct 
or  the  instinct  for  property,  etc.  Most  children  show 
these  tendencies  at  some  time  in  their  development, 
and  it  seems  probable  that  they  are  genuine  survivals 
of  ancestral  traits,  but  so  few  observations  have  been 
made  that  we  cannot  give  a  connected  account  of 
them. 

Another  group  of  acts  is  that  which  centers  about 
the  instinctive  emotions — the  expressio?is  of  fear,  anger, 
delight,  etc.  These,  as  being  closely  connected  with 
gesture  and  language,  will  be  discussed  in  the  chapter 
on  Language. 

Still  other  acts  that  are  often  classed  as  instinctive 
are  language,  play  and  imitation.  There  is  little  ques- 
tion that  there  are  certain  inborn  tendencies  in  these 
cases,  but  the  tendencies  so  seldom  take  definite  chan- 
nels, as  genuine  instincts  do,  that  we  may  question 
somewhat  whether  it  is  not  confusing  to  class  them 
with  instincts.  There  ought  to  be  some  term  which 
should   indicate    that  these    acts    are    neither   wholly 

18 


2  72 


THE   CHILD 


instinctix'c  nor  wholly  deliberate,  but  have  both  fac- 
tors intricately  woven  together. 

Finally,  we  hear  such  terms  as  the  religious  instinct, 
the  instinct  for  constructiveness,  the  instinct  for  work, 
where  the  feeling  seems  to  be  confused  with  the  move- 
ments resulting  from  it.  We  are  considering  here  only 
instinctive  movements,  not  instinctive  feelings  and 
emotions. 

In  the   impulsive,  refle.x  and   instinctive  movements 

so   far   described,  the   child    has   been   presented   as  a 

member    of    a    race   only,    not   as   an    indi- 
Conclusion.         -i       i  awu  u    ^u  •    ^• 

vidual.      Although  there  are  variations  in 

different  children,  it  is  still  surprising  how  much  alike 
all  these  movements  are  in  all  children,  and  at  how 
nearly  the  same  age  they  appear.  They  do  indeed 
display  the  child's  nature,  as  a  social  nature;  but  he  is 
unconscious  that  he  has  a  nature  to  express  or  that  he 
is  expressing  it.  On  the  physical  side  his  energies  are 
occupied  in  acquiring  control  of  his  senses  and  of  the 
larger  muscles  of  his  body;  and  on  the  intellectual 
side,  in  the  development  of  sensation  and  perception 
and  the  rudiments  of  memory,  imagination  and  thought, 
in  all  of  which  he  is  repeating  race-history.  Never- 
theless, conscious  attempts  to  reproduce  what  others 
do,  and  to  express  his  own  feelings  and  thoughts  begin 
very  early  in  imitation  and  in  language,  and  manifest 
themselves  in  increasing  force  in  play,  drawing,  music, 
and  all  the  other  forms  of  childish  expression. 

REFERENCES 

Allin,  A.      Social  Recapitulation.      Ed.  Rev.,  iSgg,  Vol.  XVIII., 

344-352. 
Bernhardt,  W.    Natural  Impulses.     ^;«.  iVa/.,  1897,  Vol.  XXXI.. 

582-587. 


IMPULSIVE,  REFLEX  AND  INSTINCTIVE  MOVEMENTS     21  \ 

Black,  J.  W.     Savagery  and  Survivals.     Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  Vol.  XLV., 

38S-400. 
Brooks,    W.    K.      Study    of    Inheritance.      Pop.    Sc.    Mo.,    Vol. 

XLVIIL,  480-491,  617-625. 
Bryan,   E.  B.      Nascent    Stages   and  Their  Significance.       Ped. 

Son.,  Kjoo,  Vol.  VII.,  357-396. 
Buckmann,  S.  S.     Babies  and  Monkeys.      Nineteenth  Cent.,  Vol. 

XXXVI.,  727-743. 

Burk,  C.  F.      Collecting   Instinct.      Ped    Sem.,    iqoo.   Vol.   VII., 

179-207. 
Compayre,   G.      Deve/opment  of  the  Child  in  Later  Infancy, 

Chapter  IV.     N.  Y.      Appleton,  §1.20. 
Darwin,  C.     Biographical  Sketch  of  an  Infant.      Pop.   Sc.   Mo., 

1900,  Vol.  LVII. ,  197-205. 
Ellis,  Havelock.     Analysis  of   the  Sexual   Impulse.      Alien,  and 

Neur.,  1900,  Vol.  XXI.,  247-262. 
Emmons,  B.  E.     Humane  Instincts  of  Children.    Jour,  of  Ped., 

1900,  Vol.  XIII.,  110-116. 
Groos,  K.      The  Play  of  Man.     See  Index.      N.    Y.     Appleton, 

§1.50. 
Hall,  Mrs.  W.  S.     First  Five  Hundred  Days  of  a  Child's  Life. 

C.  S.  M.,  Vol.  II.     See  Index. 
Jordan,  F.     Character  as  Seen  in  Body  and  Parentage. 
Kline,  W.  L.      Truancy  as  Related  to  the   Migrating   Instinct. 

Ped.  Sem.,  1897-1898,  Vol.  V.,  3S1-420. 
Lindley,  E.  H.     Some  Mental  Automatisms.      Ped.    Sem.,    1897, 

Vol.  v.,  41-60. 
Marshall,  H.  R.    Instinct  and  Reason.  N.  Y.,  Macmillan.     $3.50. 
McMillan,  Margaret.     Early  Childhood,    27-47.      Syracuse.    Bar- 

deen,  $1.50. 
Mezes,   S.    G.      Essential  Differences    between    Man   and  Other 

Animals.      Texas  Acad,  of  Sc,  1898,  23-27. 
Mills,  W.,  and  others.     Instinct.     Science,  N.  S.,  1896,  Vols.  III._ 

and  IV. 
Moore,  Mrs.  Kathleen  Carter.     Mental  Development  of  a  Child, 

Psy.  Pev.  Monograph  Sup.  No.  3. 
Morgan.  C.  L.     Swimming  Instinct.     Nature,  1901,  Vol.  LXIV., 

208. 
Oppenheim,  N.     Mental  Growth  and  Control,  Chapter  V.     N.Y. 

Macmillan,  $1.25. 


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THE   CHILD 


Phillips,   D.    E.     Teaching  Instinct.     Fed.  Siin.,  1S99,  Vol.  VI.. 

1S8-245. 
Preyer,  W.     Senses  and    Will,    Chapters  on   Impulsive,    Reflex 

and  Instinctive  Movements.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Reid,  G.  A.     Prehensile  Power  of  the  Hands  of  the  Human  Infant. 

Lancet,  1S97,  p.  1077. 
Robinson,   L.       Primitive  Child.      N.  Am.   Rev.,   Vol.    CLIX., 

467-478. 
Rowe,  S.  H.    Physical  Nature  of  the  Child,  Chapters  II.  and  XI. 

N.  Y.     Macmillan,  §1.00. 
Scripture,  E.  W.     Arousal  of  an  Instinct  by  Taste  Only.     Science, 

N.  S.,  1899,  Vol.  IX.,  p.  878. 
Shinn,  Millicent  W.    Biography  of  a  Baby.    Boston.    Houghton, 

Mifflin,  Si. 50. 
Swift,  E.  J.    Criminal  Tendencies  of  Boyhood.     Ped.  Sent.,  1900, 

Vol.  VIII.,  65-91. 
Heredity  and   Environment.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1898,  910-916; 

Am.  Phys.,  Ed.  Rev.  1898;  N.   IV.  Mo.,  189S,  36-41. 
Trettien,  A.  W.     Creeping  and  Walking.     Am.  four,  of  Psy., 

1900,  Vol.  XII.,  1-57. 
Thomas,   W.   I.      Gaming  Instinct.       Am.  four,  of  Soc,   1901, 

Vol.  VI.,  750-763. 
Taylor,   A.  R.     Study  of  the  Child,  93-105.      N.  Y.     Appleton, 

§1.25. 
Tracy,  B.      Psychology  of  Childhood,   Chapter  on   Movements. 

Boston.     Heath,  $0.90. 
Worthington,  S.  M.     Inheritance  of  Mutilations,  etc.     Med.  Rev., 

1897. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Growth  in  Control  of  the  Body 

1.  To  observe  the  increase  in  control  of  the  muscles, 
compare  children  two,  four,  eight  and  fourteen  years 
old.  Note  the  difference  in  ability  to  move  observa- 
the  fingers  separately,  either  horizontally  tions. 
or  up  and  down,  to  stand  still  on  tip-toe,  and  to  thread 
a  needle. 

2.  Have  children  of  different  ages  sort  out  colors, 
and  note  the  differences  in  accuracy. 

3.  Have  them  tap  a  finger  regularly,  as  long  as  they 
can,  and  note  the  differences  in  regularity  and  in 
length  of  time.  In  all  these  the  fourteen-year-old 
child  will  probably  be  little,  if  at  all,  superior  to  the 
eight-year-old. 

4.  Notice  whether  the  brightest  children  of  your 
acquaintance  are  the  quickest  and  the  most  accurate 
in  their  movements. 

5.  Provide  your  children  with  simple  tools,  needles, 
etc.,  of  their  own,  and  encourage  them  to  make  their 
own  toys,  playhouses,  etc.,  as  well  as*  articles  for  use 
about  the  house.  Show  them  how  to  use  the  tools, 
and  see  that  they  complete  whatever  they  begin. 

6.  If  you  are  observing  one  child  systematically, 
give  the  tests  mentioned  in  i  at  regular  intervals,  and 
take  pictures  if  possible. 

Leaving  now  the  exclusively  physiological  side  of 
the  subject,  we  shall  consider  how  a  child  learns  to  use 

275 


2^6  "^"E  CHILD 

his  body,  and  how  much  he  inijirovcs  from  babyhood 
to  youth.  Ill  many  parts  of  our  country  a  revival  of 
Introduc-  'i"  sorts  of  hand  work  is  shown  by  classes 
tion.  in  lacc-making,  spinning  and  weaving,  car- 

pentry, basketry,  and  so  on.  While  there  maybe  more 
or  less  of  the  fad  in  this,  it  is  nevertheless  very  sug- 
gestive to  the  sociologist  and  to  the  educator,  because 
it  indicates  a  feeling  of  the  value  of  "handiness." 

Whether  we  look  at  the  matter  historically  or  logic- 
ally, we  can  see  that  in  the  end  our  civilization 
depends  upon  our  ability  to  control  our  bodies,  espe- 
cially our  hands.  Without  such  ability,  neither  liter- 
ature nor  machinery  nor  any  other  expression  of 
thought  is  possible,  and  it  is  still  an  open  question 
how  much  the  power  of  thought  itself  is  dependent  for 
growth  upon  an  organ  that  is  adaptable,  like  the  lips  and 
hands,  and  how  far  it  has  created  the  organ  by  use.  It  is 
therefore  valuable  to  study  how  the  baby  learns  to  use 
that  wonderful  organ  of  the  mind,  his  body,  and  espe- 
cially how  both  child  and  adult  learn  to  use  their  hands. 

In  order  to  understand  why  a  baby  makes  move- 
ments of  one  sort  and  a  child  movements  of  another 

sort,   we  must  know  something  about  the 
Nervous  •  ^  ™,  .•        i     . 

conditions       nervous  system.      Ihe  connection  between 

and  bodily  the  nervous  system  and  the  rest  of  the 
body  is  so  close  that  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses a  man  might  as  well  not  have  a  body  as  a  ner- 
vous system  that  is  seriously  diseased.  We  see  the 
truth  of  this  especially  in  cases  of  paralysis,  or  of 
locomotor  ataxia,  but  we  do  not  often  realize  that  the 
truth  holds  also  for  slighter  degrees  of  disease.  Wear- 
iness of  any  group  of  nerve-cells  makes  it  difficult  or 
impossible  to  use  the  muscles  which  those  cells  control. 


GROWTH    IN   CONTROL   OF   THE    BODY 


277 


A  person  suffering  from  nervous  exhaustion,  despite 
large,  vvell-dev^eloped  muscles,  cannot  walk  a  block 
without  extreme  fatigue.  A  tired  woman  cannot  do 
fine  sewing  well;  a  tired  child  cannot  write  as  well  or 
speak  as  distinctly  as  when  rested. 


\ 


mJ 


Diagram  11.     Various  Human  Nerve-Cells  Drawn  to  the  Same  Scale  and 
Magnified  300  Diameters. 

It  is  not  necessary,  and  it  would  not  be  profitable,  to 
give  a  detailed  account  of  the  nervous  system  here. 
We  shall  only  notice  that  it  consists  of  structure  of 
nerve-cells  and  nerve-fibers;  the  structure  the  nervous 
of  each  is  shown  in  Diagrams  ii  and  12.         system. 

In  general,  the  nerve-cells  are  found  in  the  brain  and 
spinal  cord  (the  nerve-centers  or  central  nervous  sys- 
tem), and  the  nerve-fibers  run  through  all  parts  of  the 
body  to  and  from  these  centers,  as  well  as  between  the 


2/8 


THE   CHILD 


various  centers.  One  set  of  ner\-e-fibers  (afferent  or 
sensory)  carries  messages  to  the  central  cells,  and 
another  set  (efferent  or  motor)  takes  back  the  direc- 
tion for  a  movement  in  response,  while  a  third  set 
(connective)  connects  various  parts  of  the  spinal  cord 
and  brain  with  each  other. 

Each  part  of  the  spinal  cord  has  control  of  certain 
muscles  of  the  body,  and  the  movements  performed 
under  its  direction  are  called  involuntary  or  reflex, 
because  they  occur  without  the  interference  of  the 
will.  Definite  parts  of  the  brain  also  have  control  of 
definite  muscles,  but  the  movements  here  take  place 
with  the  consent  of  the  person  and  so  are  called  volun- 
tary. Most  muscles 
of  the  body  may  be 
controlled  at  one 
time  by  the  cord, 
and  at  another  time 
by  the  brain.  The 
arrangement  of  the 
nerve-fibers  which 
permits  this  double 
control  is  like  this:  a  certain  nerve-fiber,  say  from 
the  big  toe,  passes  from  the  toe  to  the  lower  part 
of  the  spinal  cord.  Here  it  enters  a  nerve-cell.  From 
this  cell  at  least  two  fibers  pass  out,  one  going  back  to 
the  muscles  of  the  toe,  and  one  up  to  the  brain.  The 
one  that  passes  up  to  the  brain  there  also  enters  a 
nerve-cell,  which  has  many  connections  with  other 
brain-cells.  If  the  rc^sponse  to  the  stimulus  is  sent 
back  from  the  spinal  cord,  as  is  usually  the  case  in  the 
ordinary  sensations  from  walking,  the  act  is  reflex  or 
involuntary.     But  if  consciousness  and  will  are  aroused 


Diagram  12.     Longitudinal  (B)  and  Trans- 
verse (j4)  Section  of  a  Nerve-Fiber. 


GROWTH  IN  CONTROL  OF  THE  BODY 


279 


by  the  message  passing  up  to  the  brain,  as  when  the 
toe  is  bruised,  the  act  is  voluntary. 

The  importance  of  well  developed  cells  and  numer- 
ous connective  fibers  is  apparent  from  this  brief 
sketch.  They  lie  at  the  basis  of  all  our  acts.  A  child 
whose  nerve-cells  do  not  grow,  or  in  whose  brain  few 
fibers  of  connection  form,  will  be  an  idiot  or  an 
imbecile.  The  work  of  education  is  to  develop 
numerous  fibers  of  connection. 

It  has  been  well  demonstrated  that  the  nervous  sys- 
tem develops  in  each  child  in  approximately  the  same 
way  that  it  did  in  the  race.  The  lowest  Development 
forms  of  animal  life  have  no  discoverable  ofthener- 
nervous  system;  neither  has  the  human  "'^ous  sys  em. 
embryo  in  its  first  stages  of  growth.  The  simplest 
nervous  system  in  animals  consists  of  a  little  mass  of 
nerve-cells  with  a  few  radiating  nerve-fibers,  and  this 
is  essentially  the  first  visible  nervous  system  in  the 
human  embryo.  By  the  end  of  the  fifth  month  of 
embryonic  life,  the  number  of  nerve-cells  is  complete 
(see  page  18).  Thence  growth  proceeds  in  the  follow- 
ing order:* 

1.  Connections  between  neighboring  centers  in  the 
cord. 

2.  Connections  between  the  upper  and  lower  parts 
of  the  cord. 

3.  Connections  between  the  cord  and  the  medulla 
oblongata. 

4.  Connections  between  the  hemispheres  of  the 
brain  and  the  cord.     This  occurs  just  before  birth. 

5.  Development  of  fibers  going  to  the  brain  centers 
that  control  stimuli   from    the  arms,   legs   and   trunk. 

*Flechsig. 


280  "^"^    CHILD 

This  growth  also  occurs  just  before  birth,  and  dur- 
I'ng  the  first  month  after  birth.  The  special  sense 
centers  also  develop  just  after  birth,  smell  first  and 
hearing  last.  By  the  end  of  the  first  month,  these 
centers  have  all  reached  partial  but  not  complete 
maturity. 

6.  The  connections  between  the  various  parts  of  the 
brain  develop  to  a  very  slight  extent  before  birth,  but 
aftrr  l)irth  grow  steadily. 

The  most  rapid  growth  of  the  brain  in  size  is  from 
birth  to  the  ninth  month.  During  this  time,  one-third 
of  the  total  increase  in  weight  aftt:r  birth  occurs;  the 
second  third  is  add(.'d  between  the  ninth  and  twenty- 
seventh  months.  The  remaining  third  is  added  much 
more  slowly,  the  brain  reaching  almost  its  adult 
weight  by  the  eighth  or  ninth  \ear.  Practically  all 
the  growth  of  the  brain  after  this  agi?  is  in  the  develop- 
ment of  connective  fibers.  How  long  the  growth  of 
the  fibers  continues,  is  still  a  matter  of  dispute,  but  it 
seems  probable  that  it  lasts  up  to  the  age  of  forty  or 
even  later.  In  old  age  the  fibers  deteriorate.  In 
idiots  and  imbeciles,  the  growth  ceases  at  too  early  an 
age,  resulting  in  arrested  development. 

At  birth   a  child   has   no   power  to   make  voluntary 

movements  of  any  sort.     When  an  arm  or  a  leg  moves, 

m^  ^  ».  .  when  his  e\-cs  close;  at  a  bright  light,  or 
Tlie  baby  s  -  .->  o      > 

control  of  when  he  slarts  at  a  loud  sound,  the  move- 
Ms  body,  nient  is  a  total  surprise  to  him,  something 
that  he  can  neither  prevent  nor  repeat.  He  gets, 
at  the  most,  vague  feelings,  without  any  knowledge 
of  their  cause  or  connection  with  each  other,  or 
with  other  feelings,  and  he  does  not  as  yet  know  the 
difference   between    feelings    arising    from    his    own 


GROWTH  IN  CONTROL  OF  THK  BODY        28  I 

movements  and  those  due  to  outside  stimuli,  such  as 
light  and  sounds. 

But  these  vague  feelings  become  more  distinct  by 
repetition,  and  as  the  connective  fibers  within  the 
baby's  brain  grow,  the  various  feelings  become  asso- 
ciated with  one  another.  The  eye  sees  the  aimless 
movements  of  the  hand,  and,  after  many  accidental 
successes,  is  able  to  guide  the  hand  to  the  mouth. 
The  first  accidental  grasping  of  the  breast  in  the 
aimless  groping  of  the  hand,  gives  a  basis  of  feel- 
ing for  the  intentional  reaching  when  the  baby  is 
hungry. 

The  wonderful  change  in  a  baby  that  usually  occurs 
about  the  sixth  month  of  his  life  is  due  very  largely  to 
his  discovery  that  he  can  move  himself  this  way  or 
that  as  he  pleases,  and  can  direct  his  movements  by 
his  eyes.  Thenceforward  his  time  is  devoted  to  learn- 
ing how  to  do  what  he  sees  others  doing.  Imitation 
seems  to  be  his  sole  end — imitation  of  sounds,  of  facial 
expressions,  of  movements  of  all  sorts.  In  getting 
this  control,  the  larger  muscles,  those  nearest  the 
trunk,  are  always  the  first  that  obey.  The  baby  kicks 
and  practises  creeping  before  he  undertakes  to  walk. 
Movements  of  the  individual  fingers  are  very  few  in 
babies,  and  even  in  children  finger-control  is  very 
imperfect. 

The  constant  increase  in  the  accuracy  of  feeling  and  in 
the  rapidity  and  correctness  of  bodily  movement  is  evi- 
dent from  numerous  tests  made  upon  school      „,,„  „-uiT^„ 

t  Tlie  cnild  8 

children.      In  the    discrimination    between      control  of 
colors,  there  is  a  steady  advance,  except  at        soy. 
adolescence.     The  newborn  child  does  not  distinguish 
colors  or  even  forms,    but    only  light  and  darkness, 


THE    CHILD 


masses  and  bright  places.  Colors  are  probably  not 
distinguished  to  any  (extent  before  the  second  year. 
Even  kindergarten  children  frequently  know  only  red, 
yellow,  and  blue,  and  do  not  even  discriminate  between 
shades  of  these.  After  six  years  of  age  girls  are  more 
sensitive  to  color  than  boys.  Whether  they  are  before 
that  time,  is  a  matter  for  future  observation. 

In  other  experiments  made  to  test  differences  in 
accuracy  at  different  ages,  the  object  was  to  find  the 
changes  (i)  in  the  ability  to  judge  slight  differences  in 
weight;  (2)  in  the  control  over  the  muscles  as  shown 
by  the  rapidity  in  making  a  movement  like  tapping; 
(3)  in  the  quickness  in  responding  to  a  stimulus. 
Both  Gilbert  and  Bryan  found  that  the  ability  to  judge 
accurately  of  differences  in  weight  increased  gradually 
from  six  to  twelve  years,  with  the  most  rapid  increase 
between  six  and  eight  years.  From  twelve  to  fourteen 
years,  the  boys  were  poorer  than  before,  while  the 
girls  were  poorer  from  twelve  to  thirteen.  After  these 
periods,  improvement  went  on  again  with  both  boys 
and  girls.  The  boys  were  slightly  more  accurate  than 
the  girls  except  between  seven  and  nine,  and  eleven 
and  thirteen  years.  In  all  cases,  the  rate  of  increase 
in  precision  lessens  from  year  to  year. 

In  the  tests  for  muscular  control  and  for  rapidity  of 
response,  the  same  record  was  made.  There  seems 
always  to  be  a  certain  rate  of  response  for  a  given 
muscle  with  any  one  person,  and  the  right  side  is,  as 
we  should  expect,  superior  to  the  left,  except  with 
left-handed  persons.  There  is  found  to  be  less  differ- 
ence between  the  two  sides  of  left-handed  boys  and 
girls,  than  there  is  between  the  two  sides  of  right- 
handed  persons. 


GROWTH    IN   CONTROL   OF   THE    BODY  283 

There  is  an  increase  in  muscular  strength,  as  shown 
by  the  hand-grip,  from  six  years  up,  with  a  fluctua- 
tion for  boys  at  the  fourteenth  year,  and  for  girls 
at  the  twelfth  year.     After  this  temporary 

IllCTG3.Sd   In. 

decrease,     the     boys'    strength     increases     strength: 

steadily  but  slowly.    The  girls'  strength,  on     resuitsof 

^  ^  fe  fc.      '  control, 

the  other  hand,  decreases  until  about  the 

sixteenth  year,   after  which  there  is  a  slow  increase. 

In  general,  as  a  child  gains  more  control  of  his 
body,  he  becomes  better  able  to  do  different  things  at 
the  same  time  with  the  two  hands.  Parts  like  the 
fingers,  that  at  first  were  moved  only  with  other  parts, 
become  more  independent.  There  is  also  more  ability 
to  combine  movements  into  long  sequences,  as  in  mak- 
ing mud  pies,  or  building  a  house,  or  making  a  doll's 
dress.  Finally,  increase  in  the  economy  and  accuracy 
of  mov^ements  shows  a  close  adaptation  of  body  to 
mind,  and  a  flexibility  in  the  use  of  the  body  that  is 
very  desirable. 

It  must  be  noted  again  here  that  there  is  certainly 
some  definite  connection  between  periods  of  most 
rapid  increase  in  muscular  control  and  Relation  to 
power  of  discrimination,  and  those  of  height  and 
most  rapid  growth  in  height  and  in  weight.  ^®  ^  ' 
The  temptation  is  strong  to  connect  the  time  of 
increase  in  weight  with  that  of  this  increase  in  control 
and  in  discrimination.  The  evidence  given  by  the  fig- 
ures at  hand  is  not,  however,  conclusive  on  this  point. 
There  is  need  for  more  correlated  observations.* 

*  It  is  interesting  also  to  notice,  although  no  practical  use  of  the 
fact  is  evident  now,  that  at  eleven  boys  and  girls  and  bright 
and  dull  pupils  are  almost  alike  in  all  respects.  This  age  seems 
to  be  a  neutral  ground,  a  resting  place,  where  all  child-humanity 
meets  on  equal  terms. 


!S4 


THE   CHILD 


In  watching  over  the  adolescent,  we  should  not  for 
get  that  the  period  from  the  seventh  to  the   ninth  year 
is   also  an   important  one,  showing  all  tin;   fluctuations 
that  ad(jlesccnce  does,  though  to  a  less  degree. 

In  the  light  of  all  these  facts  about  development,  it 
seems  probable   that  our   present  school   gradings  are 
artificial.      The     natural     divisions     would 
Growth  and     seem   to   fall    about    the  seventh   or  eighth 
grading.  >'«^^ii',  and  the  twelfth  and  fourteenth  years 

for  girls  and  boys  respectively.  Or,  to 
state  it  more  exactly,  the  natural  divisions  occur  at 
the  beginning  of  the  second  dentition,  at  which  time 
there  is  a  rapid  growth  of  connective  fibers  in  the 
brain;  and  at  the  beginning  of  adolescence,  where 
there  is  another  period  of  rapid  growth  of  connective 
fibers.  Previous  to  the  second  dentition,  kindergarten 
methods,  on  a  wider  scale  than  now,  seem  advisable; 
that  is,  relati\-ely  little  stress  should  he.  laid  on  book- 
work,  and  more  on  hand  work,  and  work  which  is  not 
separated  Into  distinct  branches,  but  is  closely  cen- 
tered about  the  home  and  neighborhood  life. 

The  new  interests  of  the  period,  from  the  second 
dentition  to  adolescence,  can  be  used  for  the  systematic 
beginnings  of  the  various  studies  of  the  curriculum. 
With  adolescence  and  the  awakening  to  social  life  that 
comes  then,  school  studies,  especially  "the  human- 
ities," can  be  taken  up  with  a  new  interest. 

In  speaking  of  the  relation  between  bodily  growth 
and  mental  ability,  we  said  that  the  testimony  was 
very  divergent.  Mental  ability  seems  to  bear  no  rela- 
tion to  weight  and  height  except  as  the  individual  has 
been  deprived  of  his  chance  to  grow  to  his  own  proper 
size.      JUit  when  we  consider  bodily  r6'/'///'6'/ and   mental 


GROWTH    IN   CONTROL   OF   THE    BODY  285 

ability,  vvc  find  all  observers  agreeing  that  the  brighter 

children  always  have  the  best  control  of  their  muscles. 

We    should    expect     this    from    the    close     g^j^.^y^.^^. 

connection    between    nervous    health    and     troiand 

muscular   control    on    one    side,     and  ner-     ^^^}^^ 

ability, 
vous    health    and   mental  development    on 

the  other.  The  person  with  an  undeveloped  brain  has 
neither  mental  power  nor  bodily  control.  The  idiot 
and  the  imbecile  are  conspicuously  lacking  in  both 
respects.  The  dropping  jaw,  the  lifeless  hand,  the 
imperfect  speech,  are  as  sure  indications  of  mental 
defect  as  the  inability  to  learn.  The  criminal,  who  is 
perhaps  only  another  sort  of  imbecile,  in  like  manner 
shows  a  lack  of  muscular  control.  In  both  cases  the 
most  successful  treatment  to  secure  both  moral  refor- 
mation and  mental  growth  is  to  teach  bodily  control, 
first  of  the  larger  muscles  and  then,  as  soon  as  possible, 
of  the  finer  muscles,  through  all  kinds  of  hand  work. 

At  this  point  we  touch  upon  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant  questions   in   elementary  education.     Our   prom- 
inent educators  insist  more  and  more  upon 
,  ,  r  ^  ^     •    •        •  u       1        Importance 

the  value  of  manual  traming  m  our  schools,     of  tj^e  hand. 

This  includes  work    in  wood,   leather  and 
brass,  spinning,  weaving  and  sewing,  basketry,   draw- 
ing, clay  modeling,  cooking;  in  short,  everything  that 
can  be  done  by  the  hand. 

From  the  standpoint  of  educational  theory,  not  all 
objects  are  of  value  in  the  making,  but  only  those  that 
typify  certain  permanent  human  interests  and  that  are  at 
the  same  time  of  such  a  material  that  the  child's  hand 
can  reproduce  them.  Within  this  limitation,  the 
utmost  stress  is  laid  upon  the  importance  of  children 
doing  with  their  own  hands,  not  for  sake  of  teaching 


286  THE    CHILD 

thorn  trades,  but  because  such  traininj^  develops  them 
mentally  and  morally  as  no  mere  book  study  can. 
It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  this  position  in  a  brief 
space,  but  we  must  state  its  connection  with  the  various 
facts  of  nervous  development  that  have  already  been 
discussed. 

Three  things  are  necessary  for  a  strong  character — 
sensitiveness,  or  ability  to  see  all  the  sides  and  factors 
Essentials  ^^  ^  ^''^'^"  situation;  good  judgment,  or 
of  a  strong  common  sense  in  seeing  what  should  be 
character.  (jone,  and  ability  or  strength  to  do  the 
right  thing.  The  second  of  these,  good  judgment,  is 
the  intellectual  side,  and  its  development  consists  par- 
ticularly in  the  cultivation  of  practical  aims  and  worthy 
ideals.  The  first  and  the  third  belong  to  the  province 
of  feeling  and  will. 

Educationally  it  is   much  the  easiest  thing  to  get  at 

a  child  from  the  intellectual  side.      We  can  easily  have 

him   learn  words  by  heart  or  do  a  certain 
The  making  _         -' 

ofawhoie  kind  of  reasoning,  entirely  apart  from  any 
™*^-  value  to  the   rest    of    his    life.      Our    high 

schools  and  colleges  are  now  turning  out  every  June 
mental  gymnasts  who  cannot  take  any  share  in  social 
life  at  first,  and  whose  motives  are  too  often  frankly 
selfish.  Our  present  political  corruption  is  far  more 
closely  connected  with  our  individualistic  and  intel- 
lectual education  than  we  realize.  liut  we  are  coming 
to  believe  that  the  most  important  part  of  education  is 
that  children  shall  learn  to  understand  the  society  into 
which  they  are  born,  and  work  for  its  improvement. 

To  make  a  whole  man,  a  man  who  feels  deeply  and 
acts  forcibly  and  well  besides  thinking  logically,  is 
therefore  the  problem  of  the  new  education. 


GROWTH   IN   CONTROL    OF   THE    BODY  287 

Now,  we  assume  that  there  are  certain  permanent 
and  valuable  purposes  or  ends  that  are  found  among 
all  men,  but  take  various  forms  according  Development 
to  the  surroundings  of  a  people.  Among  ofinterest 
them  are  the  desires  for  food,  clothing  and  ^'^8°°^*^^  *• 
shelter,  and  the  love  of  music  and  art,  at  least  in  a 
crude  form.  These  desires  are  born  in  each  child  and 
are  the  center  from  which,  through  his  social  nature,  he 
works  out  to  an  interest  in  natural  science  and  in  other 
people  and  other  times.  The  instinct  of  imitation 
leads  him  to  play  at  house,  at  hunting,  at  dress-mak- 
ing, reproducing  in  miniature  the  life  about  him. 
Thence  he  is  led  to  question  what  people  did  for 
clothes  when  they  had  no  needles,  how  they  killed 
animals  when  they  had  no  guns,  and  so  on. 

But,  and  here  we  connect  with  hand  work  again, 
when  a  child  thus  begins  to  question  how  a  certain 
people  lived  or  how  a  certain  food  is  obtained  or  how 
a  certain  machine  runs,  the  best  understanding  is 
obtained  by  his  living  the  life,  preparing  the  food,  or 
making  the  machine;  and  the  association  fibers  of  the 
brain  are  most  rapidly  developed  by  this  activity.  A 
child  has  but  a  small  store  of  memories  to  fall  back 
upon  and  cannot  construct  in  imagination  with  any 
accuracy  such  a  process  as  weaving,  even  of  the  sim- 
plest kind.  He  must,  at  least  in  a  crude  form,  go 
through  the  essential  parts  of  the  process  himself 
before  he  can  have  the  feelings  and  motor  associa- 
tions necessary  for  understanding  it.  Still  more,  by 
doing  it  himself,  he  is  able  to  enter  into  the  feelings 
and  thoughts  of  the  weaver.  By  planting  and  raising 
wheat,  he  not  only  understands  farming  better,  but 
also  the  farmer.      He  is  broadening  his   sympathies, 

19 


288  THE    CHILD 

for  the  basis  of  all  sympathy  is  ability  to  put  oneself 
in  another's  place,  and  we  cannot  do  this  unless  we 
ha\e  had  the  same  experiences  as  he.  This  strong 
plea  can  therefore  be  made  for  hand  work  in  our 
schools — that  it  will  do  away  with  the  foolish  notion 
that  the  trades  are  of  less  worth  than  the  professions, 
and  will  train  children  to  a  genuine  sym])athy  with  all 
workers,  thus  leveling  the  artificial  distinctions  of  our 
social  life  and  helping  to  solve  our  labor  problems. 

Finally,  on  the  side  of  action,  only  acting  will 
develop  the  skill,  accuracy  and  patience 
o™acUon°*^^  which  are  essential  things  in  the  attainment 
of  first  rank  in  any  profession. 

From  all  sides  it  seems,  therefore,  that  the  expres- 
sion in  visible  form  of  any  valuable  thought  is  neces- 
sary for  the  complete  understanding  of  the  thought  as 
well  as  for  the  broadening  and  strengthening  of  the  feel- 
ings and  of  the  will.  Accordingly,  we  would  make  an 
earnest  plea  to  parents  and  teachers  to  do  their  utmost 
to  give  the  children  in  their  charge  every  opportunity 
to  express  their  ideas.  This  does  not  recjuire  the 
introduction  of  expensi\-e  outfits  in  cooking,  manual 
training,  and  so  on,  so  much  as  it  does  ingenuity  in 
using  the  materials  at  hand.  Wonders  can  be  done 
with  a  hammer,  saw  and  jack-knift>,  with  an  old  sto\'e 
and  a  few  tin  pans,  with  a  doll  and  some  pieces  of 
cloth,  with  weeds,  pliable  twigs  and  tough  grasses, 
with  sand,  mud  and  clay.  All  these  things  are  at  hand 
for  nearly  every  one.  The  important  thing  is  that  the 
children  shall  become  accustomed  to  expressing  their 
ideas. 

Physically  a  child  gets  more  and  better  control  of 
his  body  as   the  association   fibers  develop  to   connect 


GROWTH    IN   CONTROL    OF    THE    BODY 


289 


'various  parts  of  the  brain  and  cord  with  each  other, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  constant  attempts  to  do  a  cer- 
tain   act  develop    the   nervous    connection 

,        , ,  f.  c     .  Conclusion. 

necessary  tor  the  pertormance  of  the  act. 

A  child  who  never  attempted  to  walk  or  talk  would 
never  develop  the  nervous  connections  necessary  for 
the  complex  combinations  of  muscles  used  in  those 
acts.     To  a  large  extent,  use  makes  the  organ. 

We  saw  that  the  nervous  system  consists  of  fibers 
that  carry  messages  to  the  cord  and  brain,  cells  in  the 
cord  and  brain  that  receive  these  messages,  and  fibers 
that  carry  back  responses  to  the  muscles,  the  three 
divisions  corresponding  to  sensation,  thought  or  idea- 
tion, and  will.  Ideation  and  feeling  were  developed 
in  our  savage  ancestors  in  the  attempt  to  maintain 
their  uncertain  existence,  and  are  even  in  civilized 
man  relatively  incomplete  unless  carried  on  into 
action.  Ph}-siologically,  the  afferent  fiber  passes  into 
a  central  cell  which  is  connected  WMth  an  efferent 
fiber,  so  that  the  tendency  is  always  for  a  stimulus  to 
call  out  a  motor  response.  Both  the  argument  from 
evolution  and  that  from  brain  development,  therefore, 
unite  in  emphasizing  again  the  importance  of  the 
expression  of  ideas. 

References. — For  Bibliography  see  the  references  at  the  end  of 
Chapter  II. 


chapt]-:r  XV 

Imitation  and  Suggestion 

1.  Keep  a  dated  record  of  some  child's  imitations 
during  the  first  year.      Note: 

(i)  Their   character.     Compare   the  move- 

0  serva-  ments  with  reflex  and  instinctive  move- 

tions. 

ments. 
(2)  Their  relation  to  walking  and  talking.     Do  they 
precede  these  or  not  ?   If  not,  is  there  a  period  of 
rest  in  the  walking  and  talking  when  they  begin  ? 

2.  Keep  a  similar  record  of  some  child  between  two 
and  seven  years  old,  or  get  obser\'ations  on  a  number  of 
children,  following  Miss  Frear's  plan  as  given  in  this 
chapter. 

3.  Try  Mr.  Small's  experiment,  or  a  similar  one. 
This  is  very  easily  done  in  any  room  where  there  is 
gas  or  a  coal-stove,  by  pretending  to  smell  the  gas,  or 
with  other  materials  by  pretending  that  meat  is  a  little 
tainted,  or  milk  a  little   sour,  or  butter  a   little  strong. 

It  often  happens  that  the  value  of  a  theory  lies  no 
more  in  its  explanation  of  the  class  of  facts  with  refer- 
ence to  which  it  was  first  stated,  than  in  its 
IvoiuUon^  application  to  quite  another  class.  The 
theory  of  evoluti(Mi,  first  systematically 
propounded  as  a  theory  that  different  species  of  ani- 
mals pass  into  each  other  by  gradations,  has  been 
widened  to  the  idea  that  all  physical  life  exhibits  a 
graded  series  of  forms  originating  from  one  or  a  few 

290 


IMITATION   AND    SUGGESTION 


291 


simple  forms;  and  is  now  being  applied  to  mental  life 
both  brute  and  human. 

This  gives  us,  in  reality,  two  theories  of  evolution — 
one  of  the  body,  and  another  of  the  mind,  and  it  has 
been  a  favorite  assumption  of  both  biologists  and 
psychologists  that  the  two  series  of  facts  run  parallel, 
and  have  no  causal  relationships.  They  would  say, 
for  instance,  that  when  you  will  to  move  your  hand, 
the  hand  moves,  not  as  the  result  of  the  willing,  but  as 
the  result  of  certain  changes  in  nerve  and  muscle  which 
are  entirely  independent  of  mental  processes.  The 
two  series  of  processes  run  beside  each  other,  but 
never  cross. 

This  theory  served  for  a  brief  time,  as  it  had  the 
practical  advantage  of  averting  metaphysical  and 
religious  discussions  upon  the  nature  of  mind,  but  as 
the  evolution  idea  has  been  worked  out  in  more  detail, 
it  has  become  constantly  more  evident  that  there  is 
some  definite  relation  between  the  complexity  of  the 
bodily  functions  and  structure,  and  the  presence  of 
mental  activity.  This  can  not,  indeed,  be  proved  in 
all  its  details;  there  are  gaps  and  discrepancies  here  as 
in  the  theory  of  evolution  itself;  and  yet,  when  we 
take  a  view  of  the  course  of  developinent  as  shown  by 
such  writers  as  Spencer  and  Romanes,  the  conclusion 
is  almost  irresistible  that  the  development  of  the  mind 
has  proceeded  with  equal  steps  and  by  the  same  laws 
as  the  development  of  the  body.  It  is  a  strikingly 
simple  conception  that  the  mind  has  obtained  its 
present  modes  of  activity  by  responding  to  the 
demands  of  its  environment.  The  animal  that  was  able 
to  retain  in  memory  some  painful  or  pleasurable 
experience  so  as  to  avoid  or  secure  it  again,  was  the 


292 


THE    CHILD 


one  best  adapted  to  its  surroundini^^s  and  so  was  tne  one 

that  survived  and  passed  down  this  form  of  activity  to 

its  descendants.      Thus  were  developed  sharpness  of 

perception,  imagination,  attention,  and  thought  itself, 

and  developed  only  in  response   to  stimuli,  as  the  best 

preliminary  to  action.     Mental  activity,  then,  on   this 

theory,  has  its  origin  in  some  want  of  the  animal,  and 

its  end   in  some  act  which    is  supposed   to  satisfy  that 

want. 

James  says  that  "all  consciousness  is  motor."     To 

understand  better  what    this  (juotation   means,   let   us 

,,.,,  turn    to  the   development  of    the   nervous 

All  con-  » 

Bciousness  system.  We  find  here,  that,  in  general,  the 
is  motor."       ^^^^^^^  ^^.j^j^   ^j^^  greatest   mental   activity  are 

men  with  the  best  developed  nervous  system;  and  that 
this  is  true  all  the  way  down  the  scale  of  life.  The 
animal  with  little  or  no  nervous  system,  like  the  oyster, 
or  the  clam,  has  little  mental  activity.  We  find  also 
that  uniformly  in  the  nervous  system  there  is  a  connec- 
tion between  those  brain  cells  that  receive  a  stimulus, 
and  those  that  send  messages  out  to  the  muscles  of  the 
body,  so  that  every  impression  received  tends  to  call 
out  some  muscular  response;  in  other  words,  "All  con- 
sciousness is  motor."  Every  idea,  even,  is  reflected  in 
the  muscular  system  and  so  makes  some  change  in  the 
body.     This  is  shown  in  a  multitude  of  ways. 

I.  Professor  Mosso,  an  Italian,  has  made  careful 
experiments  to  find  out  what  is  the  effect  upon  the 
body  of  stimulations  that  arouse  emotions,  and  also  to 
discover  the  bodily  changes  caused  by  changing  ideas. 
He  found  that  when  various  substances  were  put  into 
the  mouth  or  wht'u  the  skin  was  touclK'cl  or  the  eye 
stimulated,    there     was     always     some    corresponding 


IMITATION   AND    SUGGESTION 


293 


change  in  the  circulation  and  respiration.  He  also 
found  that  mental  work,  such  as  sums  in  mental  arith- 
metic, changed  the  character  of  the  breathing  and  cir- 
culation. These  changes  were  measured  by  means  of 
a  registering  apparatus,  so  that  the  matter  is  proved. 
Mr.  Gates  of  Washington,  further  investigating  this 
point,  has  discovered  that  every  emotion  causes 
changes  varying  with  their  character.  Thus  there  is 
one  kind  of  perspiration  for  fear,  and  another  for  joy. 

2.  Such  facts  as  those  of  muscle-reading  prove  the 
same  thing.  In  muscle-reading,  there  is  always 
physical  contact  between  subject  and  operator.  The 
operator  knows  where  an  object  is  hidden  which  he 
wishes  the  subject  to  find,  and  he  keeps  his  mind  fixed 
on  the  place  where  the  object  is.  This  fixing  of  atten- 
tion leads  to  involuntary  contractions  of  the  muscles 
that  guide  the  subject  toward  the  place,  if  he  is  sensi- 
tive enough  to  perceive  them. 

3.  The  facts  of  hypnotism  are  too  well-known  to 
need  description  here.  We  mention  hypnotism 
because  its  essential  characteristic  is  that  the  subject  is 
in  some  way  given  an  idea  which  fills  his  conscious- 
ness, and  therefore  must  be  carried  out  into  action. 
What  is  called  the  "control"  of  the  hypnotist  over  the 
subject  depends  entirely  upon  how  well  he  can  fill  the 
subject's  mind  with  the  ideas  which  he  wishes  him  to 
act  upon. 

4  There  are  many  facts  in  our  everyday  life  that 
illustrate  the  same  thing.  When  there  is  no  conflicting 
idea  in  our  minds  we  act  upon  any  idea  that  comes 
into  it.  If  we  see  a  pencil,  we  make  marks  with  it;  if 
a  pin  is  on  the  floor,  we  pick  it  up;  if  we  put  on  our 
hat,  we  also  put  on   our  coat  and  gloves,  and   so  on. 


2  94 


THE  CHILD 


Habitual  acts  come  under  this  head;  the  act  once 
started  is  finished  because  we  have  no  opposing  idea. 

This  carrying  out  into  action  of  an  idea  that  in  any- 
way enters  the  mind,  depends,  we  have  just  said,  on 

^     ^,  ,  the  absence  of  conflicting  ideas.     This,  in 

Condition  of  ,  ,  r 

imitative-       turn,  depends  upon  the  number  of  associa- 

nessorsug-  tions  that  one  has  with  an  idea,  and  the 
gestibllity.  .  .  -        ,  ,        .  . 

amount  of  attention  fixed  upon  the  idea. 

The  more  the  attention  is  fixed,  the  more  likely  is  the 
idea  to  be  carried  out;  and  the  fewer  the  associations, 
the  less  likely  are  opposing  ideas  to  rise.  Children 
have  fewer  associations  than  grown  people,  and  hence 
believe  everything  that  is  told  them.  Their  attention 
is  also  easil}'  attracted.  On  both  accounts,  then,  the 
tendcnc}^  is  for  them  to  carry  out  into  action  at  once 
anything  that  attracts  them,  and  therefore  children 
are  more  imitative  than  adults. 

Imitation  means,  in  its  widest  sense,  the  copying  of 
some  idea  received  from  some  person  or  object,  in  the 
form  in  which  it  was  received.  Thus  one  may  imitate 
the  pose  of  a  statue,  the  bark  of  a  dog,  the  movement 
or  the  voice  of  a  friend.  One  may  also  imitate 
motives  as  far  as  one  knows  them. 

The  questions  immediately  before  us  are  these: 
When  does  imitation  rise,  and  when  ebb?  How  strong 
is  its  power  over  the  child?  What  does  he  imitate? 
And  what  use  can  we  make  educationally  of  this  tend- 
ency? 
Is  Imitation  is  now  usually  classed  as  a  genuine 
instinct.  It  is  an  inborn  tendency  common  to  all 
children,  but  undeveloped  at  birth.  At  first,  a  child's 
acts  are  reflex  and  involuntary,  and  not  until  between 
the  ages  of  four   and   six  months  does  real   imitation 


IMITATION   AND    SUGGESTION 


29; 


begin.      From  that  time  to  the  age  of  seven,  imitation 

is  the  principal  means  of  education.     This    is   simply 

another  and  more  specific  statement  of  the 

fact  that  all  consciousness  is  motor.    There        .  ^^!°^..„„ 

imitation. 

is  some   bodily  change    in   answer  to    any 

stimulus,  and   in  imitation,  the  body  only  reproduces 

in  the  same  form  the  stimulus  that  it  receives. 

Preyer  remarks  that  the  very  first  imitations  of  the 
baby  are  imitations  of  movements  that  he  already 
knows  and  does  without  any  such  stimuli.  In  the 
case  of  his  son,  it  was  the  pursing  of  the  mouth,  and 
occurred  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fourth  month.  Miss 
Shinn  notes  for  the  same  time  some  possible  imitations 
of  sounds  but  is  dubious  about  their  being  true  imita- 
tions. Even  if  there  are  genuine  imitations  at  this 
early  age,  they  are  infrequent,  and  the  most  patient  en- 
couragement of  the  child  will  not  call  them  out  except 
to  a  very  limited  extent.  The  connective  fibers  between 
the  sensory  and  motor  brain  regions,  which  are  essen- 
tial before  imitation  can  occur,  have  not  yet  developed 
to  any  great  extent,  and  do  not  until  about  the  ninth 
month,  at  which  time  imitation  becomes  much  more 
frequent.  In  the  sixth  or  seventh  month  there  are 
some  clear  cases  of  imitation,  but  even  then  they  are 
relatively  few,  while  from  the  ninth  month  on,  the 
baby  imitates  all  sorts  of  movements  and  sounds- 
combing  his  hair,  shaving  himself,  sweeping  and  other 
household  tasks.  By  two  and  a  half  years  the  child  is 
into  everything,  imitating  his  elders  and  wanting  to 
help  in  every  way.  The  great  development  in  the 
ninth  month  certainly  has  a  close  connection  with  the 
rise  of  creeping  and  language  and  the  growth  of  per- 
ception, but  we  lack  observations  which  would  reveal 


296 


THE    CHILD 


the  exact  oi'tler  of  development  and  the  causal  rela- 
tions between  these  processes. 

^  In  these  first  imitations,  the  child  imitates  most 
readily  the  movements  that  he  already  performs 
reflexly  or  instincti\'c'l)'.  Beckonin.c^"  or  waving  the 
hand  in  "bye-bye"  is  one  of  the  first  imitations,  and  in 
the  beginning  is  only  a  repetition  of  the  natural  move- 
ments of  the  arms,  l^ut  even  before  such  a  voluntary 
imitation  occurs,  the  child  is  very  likely  to  reproduce 
unconsciously  movements  or  sounds,  such  as  a  smile 
or  a  cough.  Later  he  will  also  do  this,  but  when 
asked  to  do  it,  either  does  it  very  poorly  or  not  at  all, 
and  always  hesitates  for  some  seconds  before  he  can 
get  the  necessary  movements  started. 

Imitation   being  well   developed  by  the  second  year, 
the  question   is  of  great   interest  as  to  what  the  child 

imitates  and  how  he  does  it,  and  investiga- 
Whatachild  jj^^j^g  j^,^^.^  ,^^,^,,^  ^^.^^^^  Qf  ^^,j^i^,^  j,^^.  f^,. 
imitates. 

lowing  is  Miss  Frear's  summar}': 


What  the  child  imitates: 

1.  Animals 

2.  Children 

3.  Adults 

Kind  of  imitation: 

1.  Direct    

2.  Play 

3.  Idea 

The  characteristics  imitated 

1.  Speech 

2.  Action 

3.  Action,  speech  and  sound. 


10% 

10 

80 

15 

80 

75 

10 

80 
60 


Now  it  is  both  interesting  and  important  to  notice 
that  85  and  80  per  cent  of  the  child's  imitations  at 
three  and  seven  years,  are  of  "grown  loiks,"  and   this 


IMITATION    AND    SUGGESTION 


297 


is  still  more  important  when  \vc  add,  what  is  not  given 
in  the  table,  that  most  of  these  are  imitations  of  the 
teacher's  actions  and  speech.  It  seems  difficult  to 
overestimate  the  influence  of  the  teacher  over  the  child 
less  than  seven  years  old.  After  that  age,  imitation 
becomes  less  prominent  because,  as  a  child  gets  more 
ideas,  he  has  more  things  to  choose  from  and  is  more 
likely  to  combine  them  in  ways  of  his  own. 

We  should  notice  also  that  by  the  time  the  child  is 
three  years  old,  the  direct  imitation  of  movements  and 
sounds,  which  is  his  only  mode  of  imitation  at  first, 
constitutes  only  35  per  cent,  and  at  seven  years  only 
15  per  cent  of  his  imitations,  while  play,  which  allows 
change  and  inxention,  constitutes  50  to  80  per  cent  at 
the  two  ages;  and  imitation  of  ideas,  which  includes 
many  plays,  is  the  most  important  factor.  This 
change  from  imitation  of  movements  to  imitation  of 
ideas  in  play,  is  coincident  with  the  development  of 
memory  and  imagination  that  we  have  already 
described,  and  with  the  beginnings  of  questioning. 

The  large  proportion  of  imitations  of  movements 
marks  once  more  the  necessity  so  often  mentioned,  of 
giving  children  plenty  of  freedom  for  activity;  while 
the  numerous  imitations  of  adult  activities  strongly 
emphasizes  both  the  social  nature  of  the  child  and  the 
ease  with  which  education  can  at  this  time  introduce 
him  to  the  work  of  the  world  in  a  play  form.  The 
more  we  study  the  children  themselves  the  more  do  we 
become  impressed  by  the  fact  that  a  grown  person  who 
is  unsocial  and  lazy  is  one  who  has  been  warped  from 
the  natural  order  of  growth. 

Imitation  has  been  classified  in  various  ways.  First 
there   is   the   di\-ision    into   reflex   and   voluntary.      In 


298 


THE    CHILD 


rtllr.x   iiuii;ition  one  simply  copies,  without  reflection, 

any  nioxemcnt  one  happens  to  see.     One  child  yawns, 

and   then    another;    one    coughs,   then  an- 

f  ^»  ^?  other,  etc.  Voluntary  imitation,  on  the  other 

imitation.  '  -  _     _    ' 

hand,  selects  and  tries  to  imitate  the  copy, 
as  in  copying  a  drawing.  This  division  corresponds, 
in  the  main,  to  the  distinction  between  simple  and 
persistent  imitation.  In  simi^le  imitation,  a  child 
repeats  some  movement  without  modifying  it  in  any 
respect.  Usually  he  copies  it  only  once,  because  he 
does  not  get  interested  in  the  act  and  so  is  not  stimu- 
lated to  repetition.  Such  imitation  has  little  educative 
value.  In  persistent  imitation,  however,  he  does  find 
the  copy  interesting  and  is  stimulated  to  repeat  the 
movement  again  and  again.  As  a  typical  case  of  this 
sort,  Baldwin  gives  the  illustration  of  his  little  daughter 
imitating  him  in  taking  the  rubber  of  a  pencil  off  and 
putting  it  on  again.  She  would  do  this  for  half  an  hour 
at  a  time. 

Here  we  must  note  one  point  which  will  save  much 
defective  teaching  if  kept  in  mind.     Are  the  children 

doing  the  same  thing  over  and  over  in  this 
re^petmon       repetition  of  the  act?     To  us  they  appear  to 

be,  because  they  get  the  same  result,  but  if 
we  examine  the  acts  more  closely,  we  shall  see  that 
this  is  not  the  case.  The  first  time  Helen  tries  to  put 
the  rubber  on  the  pencil,  she  probably  does  not  suc- 
ceed, although  she  tries  very  hard.  She  keeps  on 
experimenting,  making  different  movements  with  her 
fingers  and  the  pencil,  until  she  happens  to  get  it  on. 
Then  she  pulls  it  off  and  tries  again;  this  time  she  suc- 
ceeds more  quickly  and  easily,  because  she  leaves  out 
many    unnecessary   movements.      And    so    each    time 


IMITATION    AND    SUGGESTION 


299 


some  movements  are  omitted  and  better  control  of 
the  rest  is  obtained  until  the  child  is  satisfied  and 
stops.  Each  time  the  act  is  somewhat  different  from 
what  it  was  before,  and  each  time  the  child  learns 
something.  The  entire  process  of  repetition  is  the 
best  method  of  self-education  that  could  be  devised, 
and  should  not  be  stopped. 

The  writer  has  been  told  many  times  that  there  are 
usually  one  or  two  songs  or  games  which  a  child 
chooses  to  play  ten  times,  where  he  chooses  others 
once.  Often  we  can  not  see  why  he  should  like  that 
particular  song  or  game  so  well,  but  it  would  seem  that 
it  must  exercise  certain  muscles  and  develop  certain 
organs  and  so  give  a  deep  satisfaction  to  the  child 
who  chooses.  His  choice  may  not  always  be  one  that 
suits  the  majority  of  the  children,  however,  and  so  he 
can  not  always  be  gratified. 

This  enjoyment  is  also  due  in  part  to  the  great 
enlargement  of  a  child's  range  of  actions.  By  far  the 
largest  part  of  our  movements  are  acquired  by  imita- 
tion, and  so  when  a  child  sees  a  new  movement  and 
begins  to  imitate  it,  he  finds  a  new  self  in  his  body 
that  he  has  never  dreamed  of  before.  He  gets  a  large 
number  of  new  and  delightful  feelings,  and,  most 
glorious  of  all,  he  finds  that  he  can  get  those  feelings 
as  often  as  he  pleases  by  simply  making  a  certain 
movement.  He  becomes  master  of  himself  through 
imitation,  and  the  delight  obtained  from  this  beginning 
of  control  is  the  direct  incentive  to  voluntary  effort 
and  to  voluntary  attention.  Imitation  is  the  developer 
of  will  power. 

It  is  not  the  thing  that  is  accomplished  by  the  move- 
ment, but  the  feeling  of  the  movement  that  delights 


-lOO  THE   CHILD 

the    imitative    child,    and    so   he    repeats    it    until    he 

becomes  th(jroiit^hly  familiar  with  the  feeling,  and  then 

discards  that  copy.     So,  also,  he  is  satisfied 

Satisfaction     ^ith  anv  makeshifts  in  his  imitation  if  onlv 

in  movement,     ,  n'  i         •    ,  ,  'i-i 

net  result.       they  allow  the  right  mox'ements.      thus  we 

find  a  little  girl  of  three  years  washing  her 
doll's  clothes  without  water;  ironing  them  with  a  cold 
iron;  and  mending  them  without  holes.  Another  papers 
th(,*  wall  with  imaginary  paper  and  paste,  using  a  clothes 
brush  for  a  paste  brush  to  help  out  his  imagination. 

Because  all  the  child  wants  is  the  new  feelings  in  the 
movements,  we  find  also  that  esthetic  motives  seem  to 
have  little  value  in  deciding  what  children  shall  imi- 
tate. Repulsive  things  are  as  attractive  as  beautiful. 
Children  imitate  deformities  and  disease.  There  are 
numerous  cases  of  children  impersonating  lame  people, 
humpbacks,  blind  people,  drunkards,  etc.,  not  at  all  in 
a  spirit  of  mockery,  but  just  as  they  imitate  everything 
else.  To  show  how  strong  this  copy  ma}^  be,  we  have 
in  mind  a  case  of  a  little  girl  of  five  years  who  visited 
a  sick  cousin.  For  more  than  a  week  after  coming 
home,  she  played  she  was  sick.  She  made  some  bread 
pills,  which  she  took  regularly,  and  every  little  while 
she  would  lie  down,  cover  herself  up,  and  act  as  her 
cousin  had  acted.  It  is  rather  difficult  to  know  what 
to  do  in  such  cases,  for  we  can  not  prevent  children 
seeing  such  things,  and  we  do  not  wish  to  repress 
the  spirit  of  imitation.  Can  we  not  make  the  children 
realize  that  the  humpback  suffers  most  of  the  time 
because  his  lungs,  heart,  etc.,  are  pressed  out  of  place 
by  his  curved  spine?  And  that  the  drunkard  is  himself 
wretched  and  the  cause  of  wretchedness  to  others? 
That  is,  we  should  replace  the  superficial  knowledge  of 


IMITATION   AND    SUGGESTION  oq  I 

the  child  by  a  (icepcr  understanding  and   he  will   lose 
his  desire  to  imitate  such  thinj^s. 

This  leads  us  to  another  important  characteristic  of 
imitation;  viz.,  its  social  nature.  We  have  said  that 
through  imitation  a  child  makes  accjuaint- 
ance  with  his  own  body  and  gets  control  of  ^f  i^^tawion^ 
it;  it  is  equally  true  that  by  imitation  he 
makes  acquaintance  with  objects  and  persons.  When 
a  child  imitates  the  movements  of  another  person,  he 
reproduces  thereby  in  himself  the  same  state  of  mind 
in  part  as  that  of  the  person  whom  he  imitates.  We 
have  seen  in  our  study  of  the  emotions,  that  if  we 
assume  a  certain  position,  the  corresponding  emotion 
is  likely  to  come,  and  this  is  also  true  when  the  move- 
ment is  imitated.  Our  little  copyist  is  able  to  put 
himself  in  another's  place  by  imitation,  and  at  first 
only  by  imitation.  Imitation  therefore  is  the  basis  of 
sympathy  as  well  as  the  developer  of  will  and  atten- 
tion, and  the  agency  for  giving  us  self  control.  Ti^uly, 
it  hardly  seems  possible  to  exaggerate  its  importance 
in  the  mental  development  of  any  child. 

Therefore  let  a  child  imitate  freely,  and  do  not  fear 
that  he  will  become  a  slave  to  outside  influences. 
Rather,  he  is  laying  the  foundations  for  future  origin- 
ality because  he  is  gaining  that  knowledge  of  others 
and  control  of  himself  without  which  no  invention  is 
possible.  Imitation  is  the  germ  of  the  adventurer's 
spirit,  from  which  in  later  life  will  bloom  discovery, 
invention  and  imagination. 

The  transformation  from  imitaticMi  to  originality 
comes  as  his  improvement  in  his  imitation  increases, 
until  the  original  movement  serves  only  as  a  hint  for 
starting.     The    factor  of  imitation  is,   no  doubt,  still 


'2Q2  THE   CHILD 

there,   but  is  covered   up  more  or  less.     This  change 

comes,  apparently,  when  the  child  has   imitated  until 

the  act  is  easy,  and  hence  requires  so  little 

Relation  to  ;,^L-ntion  that  he  can  expend  the  mental 
originality.  ^  . 

cnerg-y  thus  set  free  in  adorning  the  act,  so  to 

speak.  Then  imagination  comes  to  the  fore,  and  sug- 
gestion is  invaluable.  The  place  of  imitation,  accord- 
ingly, would  seem  to  be  in  getting  technique.  It  is  a 
great  advantage  to  a  child  who  is  drawing  to  see  how 
to  hold  his  pencil  and  how  to  make  a  clear  line,  and  it 
certainly  does  not  interfere  with  his  individuality.  The 
mistake  that  we  all  make  lies  here  rather, — we  insist 
upon  giving  him  an  e/id  to  copy  that  is  outside  him- 
self, whereas  the  end  should  be  the  expression  of  his 
own  personality,  and  should  be  chosen  by  himself. 
At  the  same  time,  it  is  often  true,  no  doubt,  that  a 
child  does  not  know  what  he  wants  to  do,  or  wants 
to  do  a  thing  that  would  harm  him.  In  such  cases 
suggestion  must  come  in. 

We  are  very  much  afraid  nowadays — at  least  many 
of  us  are — of  destroying  a  child's  spontaneity  if  he  imi- 
tates much.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  children  have 
been  and  are  repressed  far  too  much  by  school  for- 
malities, book  study,  and  so  on,  but  free  imitation  has 
nothing  to  do  with  such  repression.  Free  imitation  is 
as  much  a  j)art  of  "free  play" — the  watch-word  of 
educational  individualism— as  is  invention  or  imagina- 
tion. Once  more  we  woukl  emphasize  the  fact  that 
the  development  of  a  child  proceeds  best  when  he  can 
freely  choose  what  he  will  do,  but  we  would  also 
emphasize  the  other  fact  of  which  we  sometimes  lose 
sight,  that  what  a  child  thus  freely  chooses  to  do  is 
almost  invariably  something  that  he  sees  going  on  in 


IMITATION    AND    SUGGESTION  nQ-> 

the  life  about  him,  and  that  the  wisest  educator  is  the 
one  who  so  arranges  the  child's  surroundings  that  the 
things  to  hold  his  attention  for  imitation  are  those 
which  will  best  educate  him.  The  child  who  per- 
sistently does  not  imitate  is  usually  the  incipient 
criminal.     He  is  the  unsocial  child. 

Since  the  child  of  this  age  is  so  willing  to  take  up  in 
imitation  whatever  the  teacher  may  suggest,     importance 
the    best    kinds  and   modes   of    suggestion     ofsugges- 
come  up  next  for  our  consideration.  °" 

Suggestion  is  used  here  in  the  sense  of  any  thought 
or  act  that  may  be  acted  upon  by  a  person.  Sugges- 
tion then  takes  many  forms,  which  may  be  graded 
according  to  the  degree  of  clearness  in  the  idea  sug- 
gested. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  list  Baldwin  puts  what  he  calls 
physiological  suggestion.  Examples  of  this  are  put- 
ting a  baby  to  sleep  by  patting  it,  by  sing-  pnysioiogi- 
ing  to  it,  by  putting  out  the  light,  learning  cai  sugges- 
to  lie  in  bed  when  asleep,  and  so  on.  *^°°' 

In  such  cases,  an  association  is  formed  between  a 
certain  stimulus  and  a  certain  act,  but  the  child  has  no 
clear  idea  of  the  act  that  follows,  and  it  can  not  prop- 
erly be  called  imitative.  The  forming  of  associations 
here  is,  however,  a  very  important  matter,  and  one 
that  is  absolutely  under  the  control  of  the  one  who  has 
charge  of  the  child,  if  the  child  is  healthy.  If  a  child 
is  healthy,  it  is  simply  folly  for  its  mother  to  accustom 
it  to  constant  attention  and  coddling  in  order  to  keep 
it  good  humored,  or  to  put  it  to  sleep.  Most  babies  at 
first  will  go  to  sleep  as  readily  if  left  alone  in  a  quiet, 
dark  room  as  if  sung  to  sleep  by  a  bright  light.  So 
with   all    bodily   habits,    especially   after    six   months. 

20 


J 


Qi  THE    CHILD 


By  regularly  i)iitling  the  child  into  certain  positions, 
associations  are  formed  between  them  and  definite 
bodily  reactions,  and  the  reaction  always  follows. 
The  extent  to  which  this  is  true  is  shown  in  odd  exam- 
ples. I  have  heard  of  one  little  girl  who  could  not  go 
to  sleep  unless  she  saw  a  towel  with  a  red  border  put 
under  her  pillow,  and  then  she  would  drop  off  at  once. 
Another  had  to  embrace  a  certain  book  on  theology. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  other  methods  of 
offering  suggestions  and   the  acK'antages  thus  gained. 

That    suggestion    is    strong  among   school 
Suggestion  °«^  . 

througii  children  is  show^n  in  the  experiments  made 

ideas,  ,^y  j^jj.    j^j    i^    Small.      He  wished  to  see  if 

he  could  not  create  real  illusions  by  giving  the  children 
the  right  ideas.  Accordingly  he  tested  a  school  of  five 
hundred  children  of  all  grades  up  to  High  School,  in 
this  wa>':  he  took  into  the  room  a  bottle  of  perfume 
with  a  spray  attached  and  also  a  {-(erfumed  card;  he 
had  two  or  three  children  come  to  the  desk  and  smell 
of  each.  Then  without  the  children  knowing  it,  he 
substituted  water  for  the  perfume,  and  a  scentless  card 
for  the  perfumed  one.  He  then  sprayed  the  water  into 
the  room  with  every  expression  of  enjoyment  and  was 
joined  in  these  by  practically  the  entire  room. 
Seventy-three  per  cent  of  the  children  thought  they 
could  smell  the  perfume.  He  tried  similar  experi- 
ments with  taste  and  sight,  deceiving  respectively  88 
per  cent  and  76  per  cent  of  the  children.  The  decep- 
tion was  greater  among  the  }'ounger  children  than 
among  the  older. 

This  tendency  to  accept  and  imitate  the  attitude  of 
the  teacher  is  due,  as  we  have  said,  to  the  lack  of  con- 
flicting ideas    in   the  child's   mind,  and    therefore   the 


IMITATION    AND    SUGGESTION  -'O^ 

most  essential  thing  in  persuading  is  to  prevent  the 
rise  of  these.  "A  strong  will,"  says  Guyaii,  "tends 
to  create  a  will  in  the  same  direction  in  value  of 
others.  What  I  see  and  think  with  suffi-  strong 
cient  energy,  I  make  everybody  else  see  and  <=o^^i<=*  °^- 
think.  I  can  do  this  just  in  proportion  as  I  believe  and 
act  my  belief."  The  first  essential  for  success  in  teach- 
ing, therefore,  is  enthusiasm  and  a  conviction  of  the 
importance  of  the  work.  The  next  is  belief  in 
one's  own  power  to  succeed,  for  thereby  one  gains 
poise  and  the  power  to  assert  oneself  calmly  and 
authoritatively,  both  of  which  are  necessary  to  the 
teacher. 

Beyond  this,  the  teacher  must  make  herself  a  model 
fit  for  imitation  by  the  child.  Her  position  of  author- 
ity in  the  school  fastens  the  child's  atten- 

...  Importance 

tion  upon  her  irresistibly  for  the  time  that     of  good 

he  is  with  her,' and  imitation  of  her  is  as  breeding  in 
inevitable  and  unconscious  as  breathing. 
First  of  all  she  must  "sit  up  and  look  pleasant."  She 
must  carry  herself  well.  It  goes  without  saying  that 
her  dress  must  be  neat,  but  it  is  equally  important  that 
it  should  be  tasteful.  A  teacher  who  wears  ugly  colors 
or  bad  combinations  of  colors,  is  a  stumbling  block 
to  these  little  ones,  in  a  very  real  sense,  for  she  is 
training  them  to  do  the  same  thing.  So  also  it  is  inex- 
cusable for  her  to  use  harsh,  shrill  tones  in  speaking  or 
singing.  She  must  modulate  her  voice  so  that  it  will 
be  low  and  sweet. 

The  degree  to  which  all  the  physical  peculiarities  of 
one  person  are  imitated  by  others,  is  greater  than  is 
commonly  appreciated.  Coughs,  stammering,  hys- 
terical  attacks,  carriage,  peculiar  gestures,   and   facial 


-^06  THI^   CHILD 

expression,  all  arc  imitated.  The  teacher  who  wears  a 
worried  frown  soon  has  a  frowning  school. 

Less  observable  but  more  important  is  the  effect 
upon  the  child  of  the  teacher's  mental  and  moral  atti- 
vaiueof  tude.      Only  from    the  standpoint   of   the 

belief  in  power  of  suggestion  do  we  appreciate  the 

child.  £|^jjj   importance  of  believing  that  a  child  is 

good,  and  of  letting  him  know  our  belief.  "Convince 
the  child  that  he  is  capable  of  good  and  incapable  of 
evil,  in  order  to  make  him  actually  so."  A  child,  and 
even  an  adult,  unconsciously  to  a  large  extent,  imitates 
the  copy  of  himself  that  is  held  before  him.  Suppose 
a  child  has  misbehaved  in  some  way.  With  a  little 
child,  the  chances  are  that  his  intention  was  not  wholly 
bad,  and  if  we  assume  that  he  was  mistaken  in  his  act 
and  not  willful,  we  can  often  change  the  intention. 
Say,  "Now  see  how  others  would  misunderstand  you, 
though  you  did  not  really  intend  to  do  wrong,"  or 
"See  how  you  have  hurt  him,  but  you  did  not  mean 
to,"  and  so  on.  The  little  recreant  will  find  it  harder 
?iot  to  live  up  to  this  copy  than  to  imitate  it,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule.  So  generally,  when  the  selfish  or  narrow 
side  of  a  child's  nature  comes  to  the  front  in  an  act,  do 
not  make  it  definite  and  clear  cut  to  his  consciousness 
by  talking  to  him  about  it,  but  rather  emphasize  first 
its  unhajipy  results,  and  then  the  good  results  which 
rise  ^om  another  way  of  acting.  Make  the  child  con- 
scious of  the  good  tendencies  but  not  the  bad,  unless 
he  is  ex'idently  doing  wrong  with  full  consciousness 
of  it.  Then  remonstrance  and  discussion  are  in  place, 
as  we  have  already  said. 

Every  movement  of  the  teacher  is  a  suggestion  to 
the  pu[)il.     If  she  e.xpects  bad   behavior,  she  calls   it 


IMITATION    AND    SUGGESTION 


307 


out  by  her  attitude  of  suspicion.  Her  eyes,  head, 
hands,  all  declare  her  expectation,  and  give  rise  to 
ideas  of  mischief  that  otherwise  would  not  enter  the 
child's  mind.  In  the  same  way,  we  find  that  children 
usually  care  most  for  the  subject  that  the  teacher 
likes.  When  she  loves  nature  and  the  beautiful,  every 
suggestion  is  of  their  attractions,  and  she  can  carry  the 
the  pupils  over  numberless  obstacles  by  reason  of 
their  imitation  of  her  enthusiasm.  Her  own  feelings, 
with  their  concomitant  actions,  are  reflected  in  her 
pupils.     Such  things  are  "catching.'* 

We  see  here  also  why  a  negative  suggestion  is  less 
valuable  than  a  positive  one.     If  I  say  "Johnny,  don't 
put  the  beans  in  your  nose,"  why  is  it  less     Negative 
valuable    than     to    say    "Johnny,    put    the     suggestion 
beans  in  your  pocket"?  ' 

Evidently,  in  the  first  case,  Johnny's  attention  is 
fastened  on  the  beans  and  nose,  and  he  is  at  the  same 
time  left  inactive.  The  natural  thing  is  for  him  to 
act  on  the  idea  presented.  In  the  second  case,  his 
attention  is  fastened  on  a  useful  idea  and  he  is  given 
something  to  do.  The  different  methods  of  treating  a 
child  who  gets  hurt  are  in  the  same  line.  Why  is  it 
better  to  make  light  of  the  injury?  Evidently  because 
this  gives  the  child  a  good  copy  to  imitate.  I  have 
seen  a  mother  work  a  child  into  a  fever  of  crying  when 
she  fell  down.  The  child  picked  herself  up  qriickly 
enough,  rubbed  her  head  a  little  and  was  beginning  to 
play  again,  when  her  mother  rushed  upon  her  thus:  "You 
poor  darling,  did  you  fall  and  get  hurted?  Naughty, 
wicked  ground  to  hurt  my  little  girl!"  Here  she 
stamped  upon  and  beat  the  ground.  "Just  see  what  a 
horrid,  dirty  hurt  it  made  on  my  dearest's  face!"     The 


'.qS  the  child 

child's  lips  began  to  quivrr  and  soon  she  too  was  angry 

and  crying.     This  particular  mother  is  worse  than  any 

one  I  have  ever  known,  but  all  of  us  are  too  likely  to 

give   the    child    something  negative  or   bad    to    copy 

instead  of  something  good. 

Another  source  of  much  trouble  to  a  child  is  that  we 

give   him  many  different   things  to  copy  which   do  not 

agree   with   each    other.      Says  Jean    Paul: 

inconsist-       ..j£  ^.j^^  secret  mental  fluctuations  of  a  large 
ency. 

class  of  fathers  [and  we  should  add  teachers 

and  mothers]  were  brought  to  the  light  of  day,  they 

would   run   somewhat   after   this   fashion:    In   the   first 

hour    the    child    should    be    taught    morality;    in    the 

second  hour,  the  morality  of  expediency;  in  the  third 

hour,    'Your  fatlicr  doesn't   do    that';    in    the    fourth 

hour,    'You   are   little,  o?ily  grozvfi  people  do  that';  in 

the  ninth  hour,  'Do  not  make  so  much  noise';   in  the 

tenth   hour,  'A   little  boy  ought  not  to  sit  still  doing 

nothing.'  "      Is    it    surprising    that    with    many    of    us 

morality  is  but   unreasoning  custom?      If  we  do  not 

live  a  consistent  life  before  our  children  and  if  they  do 

not  find  the  same  results  following  the  same  acts,  how 

can  they  ever  believe  in  a  truth   and  justice  that  are 

eternal? 

If  what  we  have  been  saying  of  the  power  of  imitation 

and  suggestion  is  true,  we  must  reach  the  conclusion 

that  our  children's  defects  are  far  more  due 

Conclusion.  ,         .  ,      ^  ■         i.i-    i.  r        •   u 

to   the    imperfect    copies    that    we    furnish 

them  than  to  any  original  sin  in  the  children,  and  that 

the  first  and   most  essential  preparation  for  teaching 

•  and  parenthood,  is  to  make  our  hearts  clean  and  our 

spirits  pure. 


IMITATION    AND   SUGGESTION 


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->  lO  THE   CHILD 

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Waldstein,  Louis.  Subconscious  Self  and  Its  Relation  to  Educa- 
tion and  Health,  \\-%o,  160-2.     N.  Y.    Scribner,  §1.25. 

Washburn,  M.  F.  Recent  Discussions  of  Imitation.  Phil.  Rev., 
1899,  Vol.  VIII.,  101-104.  (Discussion  of  Tarde  and  Bald- 
win.) 

Wundt,  W.  Human  and  Animal  Psychology.  Chapter  on 
Hypnotism  and  Suggestion,  pp.  32S-339.  N.  Y.  Macmillan, 
$2.60. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Language 

1.  Keep  a  dated  record  of  the  order  of  development 
of  vowels  and  consonants;  of  clicks,  grunts  observa- 
etc.        '  tioiis- 

2.  Note  when  gestures  begin  to  be  used  to  get  what 
the  child  wants.  What  gestures  are  used?  What  are 
first  used?     What  are  most  frequently  used? 

3.  Note  when  the  baby  begins  to  understand  speech. 
Be  careful  here  not  to  confuse  knowledge  of  the  word 
with  knowledge  of  the  gestures.  To  be  sure  that  the 
baby  understands  the  word,  it  must  be  spoken  without 
gestures  or  any  unusual  inflections. 

(i)  When  does  he  know  his  name? 

(2)  The  names  of  the  people  that  he  sees  most  fre- 

quently? 

(3)  The  names  of  any  objects? 

4.  The  beginnings  of  speech.  Keep  a  record  of  the 
first  words  used  with  meaning,  spelling  them  as  they 
are  pronounced  and  classifying  them  as  they  are  used, 
not  as  classified  in  a  grammar. 

Such  a  record  can  be  made  for  children  of  any  age. 

5.  Keep  a  record  of  the  color  vocabulary  from  the 
time  when  the  child  first  names  a  color  correctly. 

6.  Keep  a  record  of  the  first  sentences,  noting  the 
order  of  the  words. 

7.  Collect  accounts  of  words  and  languages  invented 
by  children. 

311 


THE    CHILD 


312 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  man  that  has  attracted 

much  attention  and  been  the  cause  of  much  discussion 

,    ,.    ^,         is  his  ability  to  use  language,   that  is,  to 
Instinctive  -^  °  .      . 

expressive      communicate  with  others.     In  this,  its  most 

gestures.         general  sense,   language  is  not   limited   to 

words,    but    also     includes    gesture,    drawing,     which 

originated  in  gesture  and  whence  written  language  was 

derived,  and  any  cry  that  has   meaning,  whether   it  be 

articulate  or  merely  the  cry  of  rage  or  pain. 

Within  a  week  after  his  son's  birth,  Preyer  noted  the 
turning  away  of  the  head  when  the  baby  had  sufficient 
food.  This  is  the  forerunner  of  the  shake  of  the  head 
in  denial.  In  the  sixth  month,  arm  movements  were 
added  to  this,  which  looked  like  pushing  away  the 
object,  but  they  did  not  clearly  have  that  purpose  until 
the  fifteenth  month  and  then  were  probably  imitated. 

In  the  first  turning  away  of  the  head,  the  movement 
is  expressive  of  the  fact  that  the  baby  has  had  all  that 
he  wants,  but  of  course  he  has  no  intention  of  com- 
municating with  others  by  the  movement.  The  move- 
ment is  as  instinctive  as  sucking  itself,  and  is  important 
here  only  because  later  it  is  used  as  a  sign  by  which  to 
express  thought.  » 

During  the  first  months  of  life  there  are  a  number  of  j 
instinctive  movements  which  are  also  expressive  and  v 
which  are  the  basis  for  later  gestures  and  words. 
Among  them  are  the  instinctive  expressions  of  pain, 
weariness,  fear,  anger,  astonishment,  joy,  desire  and 
pride.  These  are  not  all  present  at  birlh,  but  appear 
before  the  end  of  the  first  half  year. 

The  first  tears,  which  may  express  weariness,  pain, 
fear  or  anger,  appear  between  the  twenty-third  day 
and  the  twentieth  week.     The  characteristic  transverse 


LANGUAGE 


313 


wrinkling  of  the  forehead  in  grief,  appears  early  and 
also  the  peculiar  parallelogram-shaped  mouth,  and  put- 
ting up  the  lip. 

The  first  smile  sometimes  comes  even  in  the  second 
week,  but  is  likely  then  to  be  only  an  impulsive 
grimace  and  not  expressive  of  satisfaction.  By  the 
end  of  the  first  month  Preyer  found  that  it  was  always 
associated  with  comfortable  conditions,  and  in  a  few 
months  arm  movements  regularly  accompanied  it. 
Darwin  puts  the  first  smile  as  late  as  the  seventh  week, 
and  the  first  laugh  in  the  seventeenth  week.  Preyer 
puts  the  first  laugh  at  nearly  the  same  date  as  the  first 
smile.  The  laugh  also  is  later  accompanied  by  arm 
movements.  It  became  much  more  noticeable  in  his 
son  in  the  eighth  month,  and  then  was  at  times  imi- 
tative. Laughter  passing  into  tears,  he  never  observed 
in  children  less  than  four  years  old. 

The  characteristic  look  of  astonishment  appeared  in 
Miss  Shinn's  niece  in  the  sixth  week,  on  tasting  some 
new  food.  This  also  is  hereditary,  and  one  of  its 
important  factors,  the  horizontal  wrinkles  of  the  fore- 
head with  wider  opening  of  the  eyes,  is  traced  back  by 
Darwin  to  the  attempt  to  see  better  the  object  causing 
the  surprise. 

Fits  of  rage  or  anger,  with  stiffening  of  the  body, 
and  striking  out  and  kicking,  appeared  as  early  as  the 
tenth  month  in  Preyer's  boy. 

Desire  is  very  early  shown  in  the  cry,  and  to  this  is 
added,  about  the  fourth  month,  stretching  out  of  the 
arms  to  the  thing  wanted;  and  still  later,  the  putting 
of  the  hands  together  as  if  to  grasp  the  object. 
Between  the  eighth  and  twelfth  months,  pointing  is 
gradually  developed  from  this. 


H 


THE   CHILD 


Expressions  of  affection,  such  as  kisses,  pats  and 
hugs,  are  imitated,  and  do  not  appear  until  about  the 
sixth  month,  at  which  time  also  a  real  gesture  language 
is  likely  to  begin. 

Gesture,  or  the  sign  language,  is  common  to  all  men 
and  is  used  by  animals  almost  as  much  as  the  inarticu- 
late cry.  It  seems  to  be  of  almost  as  wide 
gestur^e*^^  application  as  the  cry.  The  dog's  entire 
body  is  unconsciously  eloquent  of  his  mood, 
and  even  consciously  he  makes  a  limited  use  of  ges- 
tures in  trying  to  attract  attention  or  to  persuade  man 
to  do  his  wish.  When  we  come  to  man,  we  find  that 
the  natural  sign  language  is  strikingly  similar  in  all 
parts  of  the  earth.  An  Indian  can  make  himself 
understood  anywhere  that  the  sign  language  is  com- 
monly used.  Deaf  mutes,  who  have  not  been  taught 
the  conventional  sign  language,  and  Indians  understand 
each  other  without  difificulty. 

We  can  hardly  question  that  gesture,  aided  by  a  few 
half-articulate  cries,  was  the  first  language,  and  for  a 
long  time  was  more  prominent  than  speech  in  men's 
communications.  So  we  should  expect  to  find,  as  we 
do,  that  in  each  baby's  development,  gestures  come  to 
have  significance  before  words  do. 

At  about  the  same  time  that  imitation  begins,  sig- 
nificant gestures  arise.  The  six-months-old  child  tugs 
at  his  mother's  dress  when  he  is  hungry,  holds  out  his 
arms  to  be  taken  up,  and  learns  to  wave  "bye-bye"  and 
go  through  the  various  baby  tricks.  A  little  later  he 
begins  to  invent  gestures.  All  kinds  of  begging  and 
coaxing  gestures,  attempts  to  attract  attention,  appear. 

The  use  of  nodding  to  mean  yes  is  not  seen  until 
between    the    twelfth     and    fifteenth    months,    and     is 


LANGUAGE 


315 


probably  not  hereditary  as  shaking  the  head  is, 
although  Miss  Lombroso  so  classes  it.  It  does  not 
appear  until  long  after  shaking  the  head  does,  and  is 
procably  imitative. 

In   this   use    of    gestures,    the   baby  is  at  one  with 
primitive    man,    uncivilized    peoples    of    to-day,    deaf 
mutes,  and  aphasic  patients.     There  seem 
to   be   certain    common    or   root    gestures    Gestures  the 
which  all  men  who  have  no  speech  or  only   language 
imperfect  speech,  use   in   expressing   their 
thoughts,  and  it  seems  as  though  reference  to  this  nat- 
ural  language  might  settle  some  of  the  disputes  as  to 
the  appropriate  gestures  in  discourse. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  variations  from  these 
common  roots  according  to  the  nationality  and  ration- 
ality of  the  person,  just  as  there  seem  to  be  variations 
even  in  the  instinctive  expressions  of  emotion,  so  that 
we  can  not  press  too  far  the  theory  of  a  universal  sign- 
language.  Savages  and  children  use  many  more  ges- 
tures than  adults  of  civilized  races,  and  more  pro- 
nounced inflections.  It  is  related  of  some  savage  tribes 
that  they  can  hardly  understand  each  other  in  the 
dark. 

Such  language  is  much  more  closely  confined  to  the 
concrete  than  are  words.  The  gesture  is  essentially  a 
reproduction  of  the  object  or  action,  and  does  not 
lend  itself  readily  to  the  representation  of  class-ideas 
or  trains  of  reasoning.  Uninstructed  deaf-mutes,  it  is 
claimed,  have  no  ideas  of  the  supernatural,  and  only 
the  lowest  abstract  ideas.  The  entire  system  of  ges- 
ture, while  pleasing  and  universal,  soon  reaches  its 
limit  of  development  and  must  give  way  to  a  system 
that  has  greater  mobility  and  power  of  adaptation. 


-i  j5  the  child 

It  is  supposed  that  there  is  some  connection  between 

the  sign-language  and  the  spoken  word,  but  we  have 

no   exact  knowledge   of   what    it   is.      The 
Connection  '^  i  i      r 

ofgesture  brain  centers  for  control  of  speech  and  of 
with  words.     ^1^^,  j.jgj^j  ^^^^  ^^^  ^i^^Q  (-0  each  other,  and 

presumably  the  exercise  of  either  would  stimulate  the 
other  through  diffusion  of  the  nervous  excitement. 

Considering  language  merely  as  a   means  of  com- 
munication, there  would  seem  to  be  nothing  marvelous 
in  the  fact  that  the  word  has  come  to  be  its 

speecb  and  ^^ilti  form.  It  is  simply  a  case  of  the  sur- 
the  cry.  ^  ^'l   -^         ,  ,       i- 

vival  of  the  fittest.     Not  only  are  the  lips, 

tongue,  etc.,  more  mobile  than  other  muscles,  and  so 
better  adapted  for  expressing  slight  differences  of 
sound  and  thus  for  indicating  many  objects  wnth  com- 
paratively small  effort;  but  their  use  leaves  the  hands 
free  to  do  other  work  at  the  same  time  that  talk  is 
going  on.  It  would  seem  inevitable  therefore,  that  the 
word  should  become  the  especial  means  of  communi- 
cation as  the  demand  for  communication  grew,  though 
at  first  it  was  carried  on  merely  by  inarticulate  cries 
and  gestures. 

Cries  and  gestures  seem  to  be  to  a  large  extent  com- 
mon to  all  men,  and  also  to  men  and  animals.  The 
cry  of  rage  is  easily  distinguished  from  that  of  pleas- 
ure; the  cry  of  fear  from  that  of  attack.  When  we  go 
beyond  these,  however,  we  approach  speech.  Buck- 
man  is  authority  for  the  statement  that  fowls  have 
twelve  or  more  different  cries  by  which  they  warn  and 
guide  each  other;  cats,  six;  rooks,  six,  and  monkeys 
two  hundred  or  more,  almost  a  language  itself.  We 
find  also  that  many  animals  can  learn  to  understand  us, 
no  gesture  or  peculiar  inflection  being  used.     Romanes 


LANOUAG& 


317 


quotes  the  case  of  a  chimpanzee  who  would  follow  her 
master's  directions  into  minute  details  about  sticking 
a  straw  into  the  meshes  of  her  cage.  Dogs  also  learn 
to  follow  directions,  and  even  to  read  words  and  fig- 
ures. It  is  related  of  one  of  Scott's  dogs  that  the 
servants  used  to  trick  him  by  saying  in  his  presence 
that  the  m^sUr  would  come  home  over  the  hill.  The 
dog  would  at  once  go  the  route  indicated,  never  by 
any  chance  taking  the  other  path.  There  seems  to  be 
no  intrinsic  reason  for  doubting  the  possibility  of  such 
things.  This  does  not,  of  course,  mean  that  animals 
can  reason. 

In  all  such  cases  it  is  difficult  to  separate  tone  and 
inflection  from  the  mere  sound  of  the  word.  The 
former  are  the  more  primitive.  Most  animals  obey 
the  tone  rather  than  the  word.  Idiots  who  can  not 
learn  to  speak  or  understand  words,  can  be  taught 
some  things  by  tone  and  gesture.  This,  perhaps,  is 
one  reason  why  music — mere  tone — has  such  a  univer- 
sal hold. 

From  these  rudimentary  cries  which  man  possesses 
in  common  with  animals,  some  philologists  believe 
that  human  speech  has  developed  through  Development 
refinement  of  the  articulation.  The  reflex  ofhuman 
cry  of  emotion,  the  voluntary  cry  of  warn-  ^p®^°  • 
ing  or  threat,  and  the  imitation  of  some  sounds, 
thinks  LeFevre,  furnish  the  elements  of  language. 
Of  these  elements  animals  possessed  the  first  as  well 
as  man,  but  man,  with  a  more  developed  brain, 
distinguished  and  used  more  words,  through  changes 
in  intonation  and  in  sounds.  Other  philologists  lay 
more  stress  upon  the  influence  of  sex  in  developing 
language;    while  still  others  believe  that  man  speaks 


t  ig  THE    CHILD 

primarily  because  his  lips  and  ton<i^uc  are  more  mobile 
than  those  of  animals. 

Whichever  factor  may  have  been  the  leading  one  in 
the  race-origin  of  language,  we  can  see  that  in  the 
baby's  speech  they  all  play  some  part. 

It  is  indubitable  that  man  now  has  a  certain  instinct 
to  speak — i.e.,  to  communicate  by  sounds — though 
not  to  speak  any  given  language.  It  seems  that  a. 
French  child  brought  up  in  an  English  family  or  vice 
versa,  learns  the  adopted  tongue  as  readily  as  the 
natives  do.  How  far  the  development  of  language 
would  go  if  children  were  left  entirely  alone  is  an  inter- 
esting but  unsettled  point.  The  cases  of  shipwrecked 
children  are  unsatisfactory,  because  such  children  have 
had  no  companions  and  so  no  incentive  to  invent  a 
language.  Herodotus  tells  us  that  King  Psammetichus 
of  Egypt  had  two  newborn  children  shut  up  so  that 
they  saw  no  men  until  two  years  old.  At  that  age 
when  brought  into  the  presence  of  others,  they  said 
"beccos,"  which  in  Phrygian  means  bread.  Psam- 
metichus thereupon  proclaimed  the  Phrygians  the  most 
ancient  people.  Long  before  a  child  imitates,  however, 
he  babbles,  and  the  sounds  that  he  thus  instinctively 
makes  are  his  unconscious  preparation  for  later  speech. 
The  child  enters  life  with  a  cry,  which  has  been  the 
subject  of  much  discussion.     Some  claim   that   it   is. a 

celestial  cry — apparently  a  reminiscence  of 
The  first  ^[^^  angel's  song.     So  noted  a  man  as  Kant 

asserts  that  it  is  a  cry  of  wrath  at  being 
introduced  to  the  hard  conditions  of  this  life.  But  we 
will  satisfy  ourselves  with  the  notion  that  it  is  simply 
a  cry  of  pain  when  the  cold  air  rushes  into  the  lungs 
and  automatically  expands  them. 


LANGUAGE 


319 


The  first  cries  are  instinctive  and  to  the  child's  own 
mind  are  not  expressive,  although  they  usually  indicate 
bodily  conditions,  such  as  hunger  or  pain  or  pleasure. 
Preyer  notes  the  wail  of  hunger,  the  sharper  loud  cry 
of  anger,  the  crow  of  delight,  the  monotonous  cry  of 
sleepiness,  and  the  short,  high-pitched  yell  of  pain. 
These  are  instinctive  at  first  and  are  not  intended  to 
tell  others  what  his  condition  is. 

The  child  cries  at  a  bright  light  or  a  bitter  taste,  and 
later  at  a  loud  sound,  because  there  are  certain  arrange- 
ments of  nerve  cells  at  birth  that  necessitate  this 
response.  During  the  first  month  of  life,  the  sounds 
that  the  child  makes  are  for  the  most  part  vowels. 
A,  00,  A,  are  the  favorite  ones,  and  there  are  varia- 
tions of  these  and  others  which  adults  find  it  difificult 
to  describe.  These  sounds  are  also  frequently  given 
on  an  inspiration  and  expiration,  making  two-syllabled 
combinations  like  agoo. 

The  first  consonant  put  with  them  is  an  indistinct 
guttural  or  nasal,  ^  or  ?i^d,  as  Miss  Shinn  gives  it. 
These  syllables  are  repeated  by  the  baby  again  and 
again,  making  reduplications,  for  which  he  has  a  fond- 
ness for  some  time  after  real  speech  has  begun.  Sav- 
age races  show  the  same  fondness. 

Wallace  and  Johnston  have  also  attempted  to  show 
that  the  order  of  development  in  baby  speech  from 
vowels  to  semi-vowels,  nasals  and  consonants,  paral- 
lels the  development  of  human  speech. 

The  first  consonants  that  appear  are  m,  p,  d,  /and  k. 
The  first  sound  not  a  vowel,  was  heard  by  Preyer  on 
the  forty-third  day;  the  first  ma,  on  the  sixty-fourth 
day.  On  these  facts  Buckman  has  based  an  ingenious 
theory  as  to  the  origin  of  language.  The  combination 
21 


320 


THE   CHILD 


7}ia-7)U7-ma  is  usually  the  first.  Vierordt  states  that 
generally  the  vowel  in  the  crow  of  pleasure  is  a ;  of 
pain,  a.  The  latter  very  naturally,  says 
consonants,  ^uckman,  although  purely  reflex  at  the 
start,  is  used  when  the  child  is  hungry  or 
in  pain,  and  becomes  a  way  of  calling  for  his  mother, 
who  relieves  hunger  and  pain.  Hence  it  becomes  her 
name,  "fnania,"  and  this  root  is  found  in  Sanskrit, 
Greek,  and  Latin,  as  well  as  in  our  modern   languages. 

So  again,  Z^?  or  da,  resulting  in  "pa|)a"  or  "dada"  is 
a  natural  cry  when  the  child  is  not  as  violently  agitated 
as  by  hunger,  and  becomes  attached  to  the  father. 
This  root  also  is  found  in  Sanskrit,  Greek  and  Latin. 
Kah,  on  the  other  hand,  is  used  to  express  strong  dis- 
gust, as  when  the  child  tries  to  eject  disgusting  food. 
It  is  made  by  lifting  the  lips  from  the  teeth,  opening 
the  mouth  and  almost  coughing,  the  same  instinctive 
expressions  that  animals  employ.  From  it  come  the 
Greek  kukos  (bad),  kcikk?;  (excrement),  Latin,  caco,  and 
similar  words. 

The  la  sound,  on  the  other  hand,  is  given  in  content- 
ment, or  pleasure,  and  gives  rise  to  the  Greek  AoAco), 
to  chatter,  and  the  English  lullaby. 

From  these  instinctive  utterances  language  first 
arose,  thinks  Buckman,  constantly  growing  in  fineness 
until  the  marvelous  complexity  that  we  now  use  was 
attained.  Taine  and  Darwin  bear  out  these  remarks  as 
to  the  first  sounds.  With  Taine' s  daughter  7na  was 
first  given;  krauii  to  express  disgust,  and  pa  a  little 
later. 

Miss  Shinn's  records  agree  with  these  as  to  "mama." 
"Dada"  was  also  one  of  the  first  words,  and  signified 
pointing    out,   seeing,   exulting,    admiring.       "Nana" 


LANGUAGE  ^2  i 

was  a  wail  of  protest  and  refusal  Two  other  words, 
"Kraa"  and  "ng-gng"  or  "mgm"  were  used  very  early 
but  were  imitations  of  words  given  to  her  to  express 
disgust,  and  disappearance. 

The  first  exercise  of  the  organs  is  not  expressive  of 
any  meaning.  The  baby  enjoys  exercising  his  throat, 
tongue  and  lips  and  so  keeps  it  up  for  hours  at  a  time. 
It  is  an  excellent  training  for  the  later  speech,  for, 
although  he  can  as  yet  imitate  no  sounds,  he  makes  all 
the  sounds  and  gets  flexibility  and  strength  of  the 
vocal  organs  and  lungs.  Deaf-mutes,  who  make  few 
sounds  as  compared  with  normal  children,  are  unusually 
subject  to  throat  and  lung  diseases. 

The  exact  order  in  which  the  various  sounds  appear 
must  vary,  although  in  the  main  the  same,  because  the 
shape  of  the  mouth  and  the  other  vocal  order  of 
organs  differs  and  the  child  pronounces  first  sounds  and 
the  easiest  vowels  and  consonants.  It  is  also  syiiab  es. 
noticeable  that  Preyer  says  that  during  the  first  year  of 
life  the  child  pronounces  all  the  vowels,  even  those 
which  later  on  he  has  to  learn  over  again.  We  have 
here  a  fact  similar  to  what  we  have  already  noticed  in 
imitation,  where  the  child  involuntarily  does  easily 
and  well  what  he  does  slowly  and  imperfectly  when 
the  action  is  voluntary. 

Among  the  sounds  made  at  this  early  stage  are  all 
sorts  of  gutturals  and  "clicks,"  which  adults  find  it 
difficult  to  speak  and  which  correspond  closely  to 
Arabic  and  Hebrew  gutturals  and  savage  "clicks." 

The  order  for  the  appearance  of  the  letters,  as  given 
by  Tracy,  is  as  follows,  beginning  with  the  most  diffi- 
cult:  ;',  /,  th,  V,  s/i,  y,  g,  ch,  s,  e,  f,  /,  w,  q,  d,  k,  o,  zv,  a, 


322 


THE  CHILD 


Sully  puts  all  mistakes  in  pronunciation  under  the 
following  heads: 

1 .  Si))iplificatio7is. 

(i)   A    child     naturally   drops    letters    and    syllables 

that   are  hard  for  him,   especially  if   they  are  at  the 

end  of  the  word,  and  the  inflection  and 
Mispronun-        ,       ,  i  i    i         i  a     /-         i 

elation.  rhythm  are  not  altered  thereby.     At  first  he 

seems  to  understand  only  the  vowel  sounds 
in  what  is  said  to  him,  and  in  imitating  a  sound  will 
get  only  the  vowel  and  inflection,  with  a  vague  sur- 
rounding of  indistinct  consonants.  Preyer's  boy  would 
respond  in  the  same  way  to  "VVie  gross?"  "gross," 
and  "o'ss.  "  Again,  in  trying  to  say  "Putting  my  arms 
over  my  head,"  little  Ruth  would  get,  "u  i  i  a  owy  i 
cad,"  with  hardly  a  distinct  consonant  in  it,  but  a  ludi- 
crously faithful  reproduction  of  my  own  tones. 

In  this  dropping  of  syllables  da^ice  becomes  "da"; 
candle,  "ka";  handkercJiicf,  "hanky,"  "hankish,"  or 
"hamfish,"  and  so  on. 

(2).  The  accented  syllable  naturally  is  always  the  one 
kept,  whether  it  is  at  the  beginning,  middle  or  end  of 
the  word,  for  we  speak  it  with  more  stress  and  voice, 
and  it  must  attract  the  baby's  notice  more  than  the 
others. 

2.  Chafige  of  letters. 

(i)  Vowels  are  not  omitted  but  are  often  changed. 

(2)  Consonants  are  not  always  dropped,  but  others 
may  be  substituted  for  them  when  they  are  difficult. 
In  such  cases  the  preceding  or  succeeding  sound  deter- 
mines what  shall  be  put  in,  giving  a  duplication. 
Thus  "cawkee,"  coffee;  "kork,"  fork;  "hawhy," 
horsie ;  "laly,"  lady.  In  other  cases  p  and  s  are 
dropped  and  others  substituted:  "fcepy,"  sleepy.  Where 


LANGUAGE 


323 


/  and  r  are  replaced,  almost    any  substitute    may  be 
used,  but  w  is  a  favorite. 

(3)  The  consonants  may  be  interchanged:  "tsar," 
star;  "psoon,"  spoon;  "hwgohur,"  .y?^^^?r;  "aks,"  ask; 
"lots  it,"  lost  it. 

With  all  these  natural  difficulties  in  speaking 
correctly,  it  seems  a  pity  to  add  further  mispronun- 
ciations by  his  elders,  in  the  form  of  baby- 
talk.  Baby-talk  is  one  form  of  endearing 
terms,  but  surely  the  English  language  has  a  vocab- 
ulary of  such  words  that  is  far  better  than  the 
^usual  run  of  baby  words.  We  hinder  the  child's 
speech  by  limiting  ourselves  to  him.  We  should 
rather  encourage  him  to  use  our  words,  especially 
as  the  vocal  organs  grow  less  flexible  as  they  be- 
come more  used  to  certain  combinations  of  sounds, 
and  so  an  incorrect  pronunciation  may  become  habitual. 
An  older  form  of  baby-talk  is  found  in  many  school- 
books  in  the  names  given  to  flowers,  animals,  geomet- 
rical figures  and  so  on.  As  a  matter  of  fact  children 
learn  the  correct  names  as  easily  as  they  do  the  silly, 
sentimental  ones,  and  do  not  need  to  unlearn  them 
later  and  get  the  proper  ones. 

So  far  we  have  discussed  only  the  making  of  articu- 
late sounds.     We  have  not  yet  reached  language.     For 

language  we  must  have  not  only  a  perfect 

1         A  i-i.  i.  u    i.    -J  Rise  of  true 

vocal   and    auditory   apparatus,    but    ideas,      speecb. 

and  desire  to  express   them.     During  the 

first  six  months  the  child  seems  to  lack  these,  although 

Darwin   noticed  in   his  boy  different  cries  for  hunger 

and  pain  at  the  age  of  eleven  weeks  and  an  incipient 

laugh  in  the  sixteenth  week.     But  it  may  be  questioned 

whether    these    were    not     entirely    involuntary    and 


324 


THE    CHILD 


reflex.  In  the  second  six  months,  however,  persistent 
imitation  of  sountl  and  gesture  arises.  The  child 
voluntarily  uses  different  cries  and  gestures  for  differ- 
ent things,  although  his  vocabulary  of  spoken  words  is 
very  small,  or  may  indeed  be  nil,  as  in  the  case  of 
Taine's  child. 

Feldman  on  comparing  children  found  that  the  first 
word  varied  as  follows: 

Month:  14     15     16     17     18     19 

No.  of  children:     i       8     19       3        1        I 
These  children  first  walked  alone: 

Month:  8-9         10         11-12 

No.  of  children:       3         24  6 

From  this  it  appears  th(it  children  walk  before  they 
talk,  and  we  may  add  that  they  understand  before  they 
walk. 

When  the  child   is  learning  to  walk  he  acquires  no 

more  speech  and  may  even  go  backward,  but  after  that 

the  learning  and  understanding  of  words  is 

®„/^,*  very    rapid.       A    child    understands    many 

vocabulary.  j         f  j 

words  before  he  speaks,  even  as  early  as 
eight  months.  Strlimpell's  daughter  enjoyed  little 
stories  told  her  in  her  thirteenth  month,  though  her 
own  speech  was  very  imperfect.  Another  child  of 
eight  months  knew  by  name  all  the  persons  in  the 
house,  the  parts  of  her  body,  and  most  of  the  objects 
in  the  room,  and  understood  simple  sentences. 

It  should  be  said  here  that  children  may  differ  within 
wide  limits  as  to  the  time  when  they  begin  to  speak, 
and  still  not  be  abnormal.  Many  authorities  state  that 
if  a  child  does  not  speak  by  the  age  of  five,  he  may  be 
considered  abnormal,  but  not  until  then.  Perez, 
indeed,  says  that  "The  more  intelligent  a  child  is,  the 


LANGUAGE 


325 


less  he  uses  words,  and  the  more  necessary  it  is  to  him 
that  words  should  signify  something  to  him,  if  he  is  to 
learn  them;  and  this  is  why  he  only  learns  words  in 
proportion  as  he  gains  ideas  about  objects."  By  the 
end  of  the  third  six  months  he  may  use  not  only  many 
single  words,  but  even  short  sentences,  and  words  of 
his  own  invention.  This  latter  fact  is  interesting  the- 
oretically from  its  connection  with  the  possible  origin 
of  language. 

The  character  of  the  first  vocabulary  is  shown  in  the 
following  comparative  table,  which  is  given  in  per  cents: 


z 

0 

z 

0 

Oh 

as 
> 

> 
a 
< 

a. 
Oh 

z 
0 
u 

Id 
t- 
Z 

H2^ 

Dewey. 

I  girl,  18  mos. 

I  boy,  19    " 

53 
60 

6 
0 

28 
21 

I 
II 

6 
3 

0 
0 

I 
0 

6 

5 

144 
115 

Tracy. 
I2children,i9 
to  30  mos. 

60 

2 

20 

9 

5 

2 

•3 

1-7 

5400 

Salisbury. 
I  girl,  33  mos. 
I    "    SVi  yrs. 

54.5 
57 

3-7 
I 

23 
20* 

9.6 
17* 

5 
2 

3 

I 

.006 
.003 

.006 
.0009 

642 
1528 

Wolff. 
Boy's    Dic- 
tionary*  

42 

0 

30 

8 

10 

4 

215 

Kirkpatnck. 

Per  cents  of 

words    in 

English 

language  . . 

60 

II 

22 

5.5 

These  lists,  as  Dewey  remarks,  classify  the  words 
according  to  their  meaning  for  adults,  an  artificial 
method  for  two  reasons.  At  first  one  word  stands  for 
a    sentence    in    childish    speech.      "Water"—/  want 

*  This  dictionary  was  made  by  a  boy  before  his  seventh  year. 
It  does  not,  of  course,  give  his  entire  vocabulary,  but  only  words 
that  for  any  reason  he  wished  to  define. 


-^26  THE   CHILD 

ivatc)'.  "All  f^one" — TJic  flxnvcr  Jias  disappeared,  etc. 
Furthermore,  the  chiki,  like  the  savage,  uses  one  word 
for  many  parts  of  speech.  "The  hurt  blooded."  "It 
ups  its  false  feet."  "Can  I  be  sorried?"  etc.  A  care- 
fully-made vocabulary  would  classify  each  word 
according  to  the  child's  use  of  it,  and  so  such  classifi- 
cations as  these  given  here  are  but  rough  and  ready 
tests.  Even  so,  however,  they  are  suggestive  of 
characteristic  differences  between  the  child  and  the 
man. 

The  idea  of  action  is  very  prominent  in  all  the  first 
language.  Even  with  this  artificial  classification,  the 
percentage  of  verbs  is  twice  as  large  in  childish  as  in 
adult  speech,  and  less  than  i  per  cent  of  the  nouns  are 
abstract.  Mere  again  we  find  the  parallel  between  the 
child  and  the  race.  The  more  primitive  a  language, 
the  larger  the  proportion  of  verbs,  and  it  is  very 
probable  that  the  first  sentences  consisted  of  but  one 
word.  An  interesting  bit  of  evidence  to  show  how 
recently  the  different  parts  of  speech  have  assumed 
clearness  in  man's  mind,  is  the  fact  that  the  ancient 
Greeks  in  writing  ran  all  the  words  of  a  sentence 
together. 

Children  vary  greatly  in  the  age  at  which  they  learn 

to  name  colors,  as  well  as  in  the  ability  to  distinguish 

the  colors.      Preyer's  child  at  twenty  months 

^°^°^  ,  knew  no    color    names;    twenty-five  others 

vocabulary.  '     _  -' 

knew  red  and  green;  thirty-four,  yellow, 
brown,  red,  violet  and  black.  The  colors  are  named 
correctly  in  the  following  order:  white,  black,  red, 
blue,  yellow,  green,  pink,  orange,  violet.  The  girls 
show  greater  ability  in  this  direction,  a  girl  of  eight 
comparing  with  a  boy  of  sixteen. 


LANGUAGE 


327 


The  number  of  different  words  used  by  different 
children  has  been  very  differently  estimated.  Some  of 
the  differences  are  due  to  the  fact  that  some 
writers  put  different  forms  of  one  word  yo^cabuiary. 
^'S-1  S^^  S'^^^^S  ^^^  ^one,  as  one  word,  while 
others  consider  them  as  different  words.  In  the  fol- 
lowing list,  taken  from  Tracy,  and  in  the  preceding 
list,  inflections  of  a  word  are  not  counted  as  separate 
words. 


Sex 

Rnv<; 

Girts 

"■■' 

Age  in  mos.... 
No.  Words 

9 
9 

12 

10 

12 

8 

15  12   19 
0    4^144 

24 
139 

24    28    30 

285  677  327 

35 

177 

22 

28 

22 

"6^ 

23    24 
136  36 

24    25 

263  250 

27 
171 

28 
451 

Preyer  found  that  nine  children  (eight  girls  and  one 
boy)  at  two  years  had  vocabularies  ranging  from  173  to 
1 121  words.  Thus  there  seems  to  be  a  wide  range  in 
the  number  of  words  possible  at  any  given  age,  and  we 
do  not  yet  know  what  connection  there  is  between  them 
and  the  child's  general  development  and  intelligence. 

It  happens  also  that  children  living  under  ordinary 
conditions  sometimes  invent  words  and  even  lan- 
guages.     The  languages  we  shall   mention 

1    .  T^i  I  •  J.    Invention  of 

later.      Ihe  words  seem,  m  some  cases,  not    ^^^^^^ 

to  be   the  result  of  imitation,  but  strictly 

original.       Among    such    cases    are     "memby,"  food; 

"afta,"   drinking;    "gollah,"   rolling  things ;    "tonies," 

children;  "diddle-iddle, "  Jiole ;  "wusky,"  sea. 

One  child  described  by  Mr.  Hale  invented  names  in 

which  the  \'owels  denoted  the  size  of  the  object  as  they 

were  higher  or  lower;  e.g.,  "lakail,"  an  ordinary  chair ; 

"lukull,"    great   arm-chair;    and    "likill,"    little   doll's 

chair;    "mem,"   zvatch  or  plate;    "mum,"   large  dish; 


328 


THE    CHILD 


"mini,"  7nooii ;  and  "mim-mim,"  stars.  Deaf-mutes 
invent  a  few  words  usually,  and  some  invent  many. 
Words  for  food  and  drink  are  the  most  common. 

Besides  the  invention  of  words,  children  usually 
form  some  words  through  the  imitation  of  sounds  or 
onomatopoeia,  as  Miss  Shinn's  niece  imitated  the 
mewing  of  a  cat  and  later  used  the  sound  for  the  cat's 
name.  In  this  respect  as  well  as  in  the  invention  of 
words,  the  natural  tendency  is  repressed  by  the  fact 
that  children  have  the  adult  language  before  them  to 
imitate  and  so  are  saved  the  trouble  of  inventing  a 
new  one. 

Nevertheless,  the  tendencies  which  do  crop  out  are 
of  great  interest  to  the  philologist,  because  the  words 
which  children  form  either  through  invention  or  imita- 
tion show  curious  resemblances  to  primitive  tongues 
and  offer  suggestions  as  to  the  origin  and  development 
of  language.  For  instance,  Mr.  Hale  and  various 
other  authorities  who  have  studied  the  words  and  lan- 
guages invented  by  children,  believe  that  in  this  tend- 
ency to  invent  is  seen  the  cause  of  the  origin  of  diverse 
languages.  "Each  linguistic  stock  must  have  orig- 
inated in  a  single  household.  There  was  an  Aryan 
family-pair,  a  Semitic  family-pair,  an  Algonkin  family- 
pair.  And  further,  it  is  clear  that  the  members  of  each 
family-pair  began   to  speak  together  in  childhood." 

The  age  at  which  the  first  sentence  is  spoken  will 
vary  as  much  as  all  other  stages  of  language  develop- 
ment. To  quote  Preyer  again,  his  son 
seiftence  spoke  the  first  sentence  near  the  end  of  the 
twenty-third  month.  The  memorable  utter- 
ance was  "Ilcim  mune,"  which,  being  translated  is, 
"Home,  milk."    Striimpell's  daughter,  however,  spoke 


LANGUAGE 


329 


her  first  word  in  the  tenth  month  and  used  sentences 
as  early  as  the  seventeenth  month. 

The  first  sentences  after  the  sentence-words  already 
mentioned,  commonly  consist  of  a  noun  and  adverb  or 
adjective,  or  two  nouns  with  a  verb  understood.  "Big 
bird,"  "Papa,  cracker,  milk,"  etc.  The  verb  makes 
its  appearance,  says  Sully,  as  an  imperative  first.  The 
order  of  the  words  varies,  sometimes  subject  and  some- 
times predicate  being  put  first.  Apparently  imitation 
has  little  effect  when  an  English  child  will  utter  a 
sentence  like  this:  "Out  pull  baby  spectacles."  I 
suppose  that  the  order  depends  upon  the  idea  which  is 
most  prominent  in  the  child's  mind,  that  being  put 
first,  as  with  adults  sometimes,  for  the  sake  of 
emphasis.  Children  as  a  rule  seem  to  have  trouble  in 
putting  "not"  in  the  right  place;  and  they  also  bring 
out  their  meaning  by  making  two  opposing  state- 
ments— "This  not  a  nasty  wow  wow;  this  a  nice  wow 
wow."  This  uncertainty  of  order  is  also  paralleled  in 
primitive  languages. 

We  all  know  the  wonderful  things  a  child  does,  when 

he  tries  to  use  inflections,  in  his  attempt  to  make  the 

language  consistent  with  itself.     Of  course 

,  ,  1  111        First  use  of 

irregular  verbs    are  made  regular,   plurals     inflections. 

are  all  formed  alike  and  so  on,  but  he  caps 

the  climax  in  his  use  of  the  verb  be.     As  Sully  says,  it 

is  asking  too  much  of  a  child  to  expect  him  to  say 

"Yes,  I  ^;«,"  when  asked,  "^r^  you  good  now?"  and 

we  can  sympathize  with  the  little  girl  who,  after  much 

drill  from  her  mother,  when  asked  if  she  was  going 

out  said,  "I'm  are."     If  a  child  is  asked,  "Will  you 

be  good?"  why  should  he  not  say,  "I  be  good";  or,  if 

that  event  occurred  yesterday,  "I  bed  good"?     "Am't 


I  -)0  THE   CHILD 

I?"  is  surely  as  logical  as  "Isn't  he?"  \Vc  find  also  an 
impromptu  making  of  xcrbs  that  is  ^lelightful.  "Bet- 
tern't  you  do  it?"  says  the  little  fellow. 

"I"  and  "you"  are  stumbling  blocks  also.  At  first 
the  child  speaks  of  himself  b>'  name,  and  is  likely  to 
think  "I"  and  "you"  names  like  any  other.  So  he 
will  say,  "What  am  I  going  to  do?"  for  "What  are  you 
going  to  do?"  The  constant  change  from  one  to  the 
other,  according  to  which  person  is  speaking,  is  most 
puzzling,  and  yet  Tracy  says  the  child  has  learned  the 
meaning  by  twenty-four  months.  Others  assign  dates 
from  sixteen  to  thirty  months,  a  wide  \-ariation.  This 
is,  of  course,  a  gradual  process.  The  child  will  use  the 
terms  correctly,  and  then  drop  them  for  the  time,  to 
resume  them  later.  The  free  use  of  them  is  com- 
monly taken  to  signify  more  sense  of  the  child's  own 
personality  than  before.  The  development  of  speech 
is  effecti\'ely  summarized  in  the  chart  found  on  the  fol- 
lowing i^age. 

This  first  learning  of  the  mother  tongue  is  fairly  com- 
plete by  the  fifth  year,  but  between  eight  and  fifteen 
years  there  is  usually  a  revival  of  interest. 

i„^f''!,„„«„  This  is  seen  in  the  secret  languages  of  chil- 
languages.  . 

dren,  which  are  found  wherever  children 
are  together.  There  are  many  kinds  of  secret  language, 
varying  from  the  easy  "hog  Latin,"  which  only  adds 
"gry"  to  every  word,  to  a  very  complex  and  inflected 
language.  Frequently  such  a  language  lasts  for  fifty 
or  sixty  years,  and  is  passed  down  from  one  genera- 
tion of  children  to  the  next.  In  other  cases  the  lan- 
guage is  invented  in  whole  or  in  parts,  and  even  a 
dictionary  may  be  made,  to  which  new  words  are  added 
from  time  to  time. 


LANGUAGE 


-.  -.o  THE   CHILD 

Thc  length  of  time  such  a  language  is  used  varies 
greatly.  In  some  cases  the  interest  lasts  only  a  few 
weeks;  in  others  ten  or  twelve  years.  Two  children 
who  invented  their  tongue  used  it  so  constantly  that 
their  parents  made  every  effort  to  dissuade  them  from 
it,  but  in  vain.  After  two  years,  however,  they 
gradually  began  to  use  English.  In  another  case  a 
man  records  that  he  has  spoken  his  secret  language  to 
himself  for  fifty  years.  That  is,  he  thinks  in  it,  and 
when  he  speaks  or  writes  translates  into  English.  The 
motive  for  using  the  language  is,  as  a  rule,  the  desire 
for  secrecy.  The  older  children  begin  to  employ 
it  to  keep  secrets  from  those  not  in  their  clique; 
another  language  is  used  in  another  clique,  and  so 
on.  The  language  is  used  in  writing  notes  in  school, 
and  on  all  occasions  where  mystery  and  secrecy  are 
desirable. 

The  hearing  and  speaking  of  words  comes  before 

reading;    and  the  brain  centers   employed  in  hearing 

and   speaking  are    the  first  developed  and 

Speech  and     ^j  ^^  firmly  established.    Lukens  con- 

readmg.  ^ 

eludes  from  this  that  a  child  should  at  first 

be  allowed  to  read  out  loud,  and  later  to  himself. 
Children  learning  to  read  whisper  the  word  to  them- 
selves. 

After  the  child  by  his  instinctive  babblings  and  per- 
sistent imitation  has  learned  to  speak  words,  he  learns 

to  use  them  with  a  significance  from  con- 
Language  stantly  hi'arin<>-  one  word  used  in  connec- 
and  thought.  ^  ^ 

tion  with  a  given   object.      In  so  far  as  the 

same  word  is  used  for  different  objects  or  situations,  he 
is  left  helplessly  struggling  for  the  common  meaning 
hidden   beneath   all    this  diversity;     and   again  when 


LANGUAGE  -i -i  ^ 

different  words  are  used  witli  the  same  meanings  as  in 
the  various  forms  of  be,  he  is  led  astray  into  seeking 
differences  where  none  exist. 

Hence  comes  the  value  of  language  as  an  aid  in  the" 
development  of  concepts,  and  as  a  revealer  to  us  of 
their  growth  in  the  child's  mind.  At  first  he  uses 
words  in  altogether  too  wide  a  sense.  "Mamma," 
"bath,"  "wow-wow,"  are  applied  not  only  to  the  par- 
ticular objects  he  knows,  but  to  all  that  in  any  degree 
resemble  them.  The  child  does  not  see  differences 
distinctly  enough  to  mark  off  individuals  unless  there 
is  some  striking  characteristic  to  aid  him.  He  rather 
associates  the  word  with  the  whole  situation  in  which 
it  is  used,  and  oftentimes  with  all  the  details  of  it. 
Thus,  Romanes  gives  the  case  of  a  child  who  saw  a 
duck  on  the  water,  and  called  it  "quack."  After  that 
he  called  all  birds  and  insects  "quack"  and  also  all 
liquids.  Still  later,  he  saw  an  eagle  on  a  piece  of 
money  and  called  it  "quack"  again.  Lindner's 
daughter  when  asking  for  an  apple,  was  taught  to  say 
"apple,"  and  thereafter  used  the  word  as  meaning  cat. 
Another  child  used  the  word  "ta-ta"  to  say  good-by; 
then  when  anything  was  taken  away;  then  for  the 
blowing  out  of  a  light.  Still  another  used  "hat"  for 
anything  put  on  his  head,  including  a  brush  and  comb. 
Dipping  bread  in  gravy  is  called  a  "bath."  The 
palate  is  the  "teeth  roof";  the  road  is  the  "go";  the 
star  is  the  "eye";  all  metals  are  "keys,"  etc. 

In  all  such  cases  we  notice  that  the  child  is  trying 
to  classify,  and  must  use  what  he  already  has  in  the 
way  of  words  to  aid  him.  So  also  with  relations — 
a  much  more  difficult  thing,  and  one  in  which  a  child 
is  likely  to  get  confused.     A  child  will  have  a  vague 


334 


THE    CHILD 


idea  of  quantity,  but  can  not  at  first  express  or  under- 

stand  too  much  and  too  little,  too  big  and  too  small,  etc. 

IK;  may  get  them  in  one  situation,  but  when  the  same 

object   that  is  too  big  for  one  thing  is   too 

Expressing  ^i^^^w  f^^  another,  it  is  beyond  him.  Here 
relation.  \  ■' 

is    the    root   of  his   trouble   with    "1"   and 

"you."  It  is  not  sur^jrising  that  little  George  thought 
"the  Doctor  came  and  shook  his  (Willie's)  head  and 
gave  him  nasty  physic,  too.''  "Buy"  and  "sell," 
"lend"  and  "borrow,"  "teach"  and  "learn,"  are  thus 
all  pitfalls  for  him,  and  at  first  are  confused.  Here 
again  we  can  trace  the  race  parallel.  Many  people 
use  "learn"  for  "teach"  and  we  apply  "pleasant," 
"sore,"  etc.,  l)oth  to  our  feelings  and  the  object  that 
causes  them.  Our  abstract  words  also  bear  unmistak- 
able marks  of  their  concrete  origin.  "Spirit"  is 
"breath";  "wrong"  is  "awry,"  "twisted,"  or  "bitter"; 
"right"  is  "straight,"  and  so  on  through  the  list. 

In  his  hasty  generalizing  the  child  makes  many  mis- 
takes in  his  conclusions,  and   so  a  process  of  limiting 
or  correcting  old    concepts    and    of    more 

Processor  carefully  forming  new  ones  begins.  A 
limitation.  ^  f"  ..... 

good   example  of  such   limitation   is  given 

by  Darwin.  His  son  called  food  "mum,"  sugar 
was  "shu  mum,"  and  licorice,  "black  shu  mum."  Such 
words  as  "teeth  roof"  for  palate,  "eye  curtain"  for 
eyelid,  "tell  wind"  for  weather-vane,  show  both 
generalization  and  limitation.  On  the  other  hand,  of 
course,  if  the;  child's  experience  of  a  word  is  too  nar- 
row, he  will  make  ludicrous  mistakes  in  over-limita- 
tion. Thus  one  boy  said  that  the  good  Samaritan 
poured  paraffin  into  the  wovmds  of  the  sick  man.  Oil 
meant  only  paraffin  to  him.     The  child  who  entreated 


LANGUAGE  ^25 

his  mother  to  "buy  him  a  brother  while  they  were 
cheap  at  the  show  because  children  were  half-price," 
labored  under  a  similar  difficulty.  Perhaps  also  the 
strict  insistence  of  little  children  on  exactly  the  same 
words  in  retellin^^  a  story  shows  their  feeling  of  a 
strangeness  with  words.  When  Mr.  Two-and-a-half- 
years  is  asked,  "Shall  I  read  to  you  out  of  this  book?" 
he  answers,  "No,  but  something  inside  of  it,"  because 
that  is  what  he  wants. 

Love  of  nonsense  songs,  and  of  Mother  Goose,  and 
the  making  up  of  nonsense  rhymes  mark  this  period 
also,  which  may  begin  as  early  as  three  and  a  half 
years,  A  little  child  will  often  sit  by  himself  singing 
over  lists  of  word:  mam,  pam,  tam,  sam,  jam,  etc., 
taking  an  immense  delight  in  it.  Sometimes  he  will 
rhyme  his  answers  to  your  questions,  or  make  all  his 
conversation  rhythmical. 

With  the  process  of  narrowing  or  limitation  well 
marked,  the  child's  way  is  comparatively  clear  before 
him.  It  is  thenceforth  the  usual  process  of  the  forma- 
tion of  correct  concepts  as  traced  by  Baldwin.  An 
object  is  first  given  which  is  both  percept  and  concept. 
When  other  objects  are  presented  like  this  in  some 
respects,  the  same  word  is  used  for  all,  until  the  child 
fails  to  get  what  he  wants  by  this  common  word,  and 
so  is  forced  to  make  species  and  varieties  to  go  under 
the  larger  class.  In  the  expression  of  the  ideas,  he 
uses  the  words  that  he  knows,  making  new  and  quaint 
combinations,  but  little  by  little  imitation  teaches 
him  the  conventional  signs,  and  he  drops  the  original 
forms. 


22 


-,  -./^  THE  CHILD 

REFERENCES 

Allen,  M.  A.      Development  of    Child's    Language.      Mother's 

Nursery  Guide,  February,  1S93. 
Buckman,    S.    S.      Speech    of    Children.     Nineteenth    Century, 

1897,  792-807. 
Canfield,  W.  B.     Development  of  Speech  in  Infants.     Babyhood, 

May,  1897. 
Chamberlain,  A.  F.     The  Child,  107-171.     L.  W.  Scott. 
Champneys,  F.  H.     Notes  on  an  Infant.     Mind,  Vol.  III.,  104. 
Chrisman,  O.      Secret  Language.     C.  S.  M.,  1896,  202-11.     Also 

Century,  1898.  54-58. 
Collins,  J.     Genesis  and  Dissolution  of  the  Faculty  of  Speech. 

N.  Y.    Macmillan,  §3.50. 
Darwin,  C.     Biography  of  a  Child.     Mind,  1877. 
Dewey,  John.      Psychology  of    Infant    Language.      Psy.   Rev., 

1894,  Vol.  I.,  63-66. 
Gale,  Harlow  T.  Vocabularies  of  Three  Children.    Gale's  Psycho- 
logical Studies,  1900,  Vol.  I.,  70-117. 
Greenwood,  J.  M.     Vocabularies  of  Children.     Rcpt.  as  Supt.  of 

Kansas  City  Schools,  iS 87-88,  pp.  52-65. 
Groos,  Karl.      The  Play  of  Man,  31-48,  294-300.     N.  Y.    Apple- 
ton,  §1.50. 
Hale,   H.      Origin   of   Language.     Proc.  Am.  Assoc.  Adv.   Sc, 

Vol.   XXXV.,    18S6.     (Account  of    language    invented  by 

children.     Summary   in    Romanes'  Mental  Evolution  of 

Man,  138-144.     N.  Y.    Appleton,  S3. 00.) 
Holden,  E.  S.  Vocabulary  of  Children  under  Two  Years.    Trans. 

Am.  Philol.  Ass'n,  1877,  58-68. 
Humphreys,  W.     Contributions  to  Iirfantile  Linguistics.      Trans. 

Am.  Philol.  Ass'n,  1S80. 
Kirkpatrick,  E.  A.     How  Children  Learn  to  Talk.     Science,  O.  S. 

Sept.  25,  1891. 
Lamson,  Mary  Swift.     Life  and  Education  of  Laura  Bridg- 

nian.     Boston.     Houghton,  Mifflin,  $1.50. 
Lukens,  Herman.     Learning  of  Language.      Ped.  Sem.,  1894-96, 

424-460. 
Mach,  E.     Language:  Its  Origin,  Development  and  Significance 

for    Scientific    Thought.      Open    Court,    1900,   Vol.  XIV.. 

171-178. 


LANGUAGE  ^ -i  y 

Mallery,  G.  Sign  Language  among  North  American  Indians. 
ist  An.  Rept.  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  1881.  (Also  sum- 
marized in  Romanes'  Mental  Evolution  in  Man.  N.  Y. 
Appleton,  53.00.) 

McKendrick,  J.  G.  Experimental  Phonetics.  Nature,  1901, 
182-1S9. 

Noble,  E.  Child  Speech.  Education,  Sejitember  aiid  October, 
1888. 

Perez,  B.  First  Three  Years  of  Childhood,  234-262.  Syracuse. 
Bardeen,  Si.  50. 

Pollock,  F.     Infant's  Progress  in  Language.     Mind,  Vol.  III. 

Potter,  S.  O.     Speech  and  Its  Defects.     Phil.     Blakiston,  $1.00. 

Preyer,  W.  Mind  of  the  Child — Senses  and  Intellect,  99-188. 
N.  Y.  Appleton,  $1.00.  (Very  detailed  and  accurate  account 
of  speech  from  birth  to  three  years.  See  appendix  for  sum- 
mary of  Sigismund,  Lobish,  Taine,  Striimpell.  Darwin, 
Vierordt,  Schultze,  Lindner,  Tiedemann,  Feldmann, 
Holden,  Haldemann,  Humphreys.) 

Ribot,    Th.     Abstraction    Prior  to   Speech.     Open  Court,    1899 
14-20. 
Evolution  of  Speech.     Opett   Court,  1899,  266-27S.     (Anthro- 
pological in  nature.) 

Romanes,  G.  J.  Mental  Evolution  in  Man,  Chapter  VI.  Also 
see  Index.     N.  Y.    Appleton,  §3.00. 

Salisbury,  A.  A  Child's  Vocabulary.  Educ.  Rev.,  Vol.  VII., 
289-290.     (Vocabulary  of  child  at  32  weeks  and  s]4.  years.) 

Sanford,  E.  C.  Language  of  Children.  Notes.  Red.  Sem.,  iSgi, 
257-260.     (Summary  of  many  men.) 

Scripture,  E.  W.  Terminal  Verb  in  Infant  Speech.  Science,  O.  S. 
Vol.  XXIII.,  62.  (Observation  to  show  that  English  child 
sometimes  naturally  puts  infinitive  at  end  of  sentence, 
instead  of  directly  after  verb.) 
Researches  in  E.xperimental  Phonetics.  Studies  from  Vale 
Psy.  Lab.,  1899,  Vol.  VII.,  i-ioi. 

Stevenson,  A.    Speech  of  Children.    Science,  O.  S.    March  3,  1893. 

Sully,  James.  Studies  of  Childhood — The  Little  Linguist. 
N.  Y.     Appleton,  $2.50. 

Taine,  H.     Acquisition  of  Language  by  Children.     Mind,  1877. 

Ta'ne,  H.  On  hitelligence.  Vol  II.,  13S-151.  N.  Y.  Holt. 
$2. 50. 


138 


THE   CHILD 


Tiedemann,  Tlieirrj'.  Record  of  In/tint  Lift-.  Syracuse. 
Bardeen,  $0.15.  (Interesting  as  one  of  tlie  very  first  care- 
ful records  of  a  child's  language.) 

Tracy  F.     Psychology  of  Childhood.     Boston.     Heath,  §0.90. 

Wolfe,  H.  K.  Color  Vocabulary  of  Children.  Univ.  of  Neb- 
Studies,  July,  1890,  205-245, 


CHAPTER   XVII 

Rhythm  and  Music 

1.  Ask    adults  and    children    to  name   the   first    ten 

nursery  rhymes  that  come  into  their  heads.         ny.„„^„„ 
J        '  Observa- 

Note  the  rhythms.  tions. 

2.  Compare  the  rhythm  and  time  of  tunes  in  your 
head  with  your  heart  beat  and  breathing. 

3.  Notice  what  songs  your  children  sing  most  spon- 
taneously. 

4.  Ask  what  song  they  like  best  and  notice  whether 
the  liking  is  due  to 

(i)  Season,  c.g.^  Christmas  songs. 

(2)  Imitation. 

(3)  Permanent  interest. 

5.  Try  to  get  song  composition  from  some  child  or 
small  group  of  children  uninstructed  in  music. 

Before  taking  up  rhythm  as  related  to  music,  let  us 
first  notice  how  general  a  thing  it  is  and  universality 
how  it  underlies  all  mental  activity.  of  rhytiiin. 

Natural  phenomena  almost  universally  take  a 
rhythmical  form.  We  have  first  the  great  swing  of  the 
worlds  in  their  course  about  the  center  of  the  uni- 
verse, in  a  rhythm  never  yet  completed.  Then  we 
have  the  course  of  each  world  about  its  sun,  of  each 
satellite  about  its  world,  and  the  rotation  of  the  various 
worlds  upon  their  axes,  making  the  rhythms  of  the 
year,  month  and  day.  In  our  sun  there  seem  to  be 
rhythms  recurring  about  every  eleven  years,  causing 

339 


J40 


THE  CHILD 


our  sun  spots,  and,  it  is  seriously  conjectured,  affecting 
the  harvests  of  our  earth  and  resulting  in  disturbed 
atmospheric  and  organic  conditions  which  lead  to  our 
periodical  money  panics  and  outbreaks  of  crime  and 
suicide.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  unquestionable 
that  the  yearly,  monthly,  and  daily  rhythms  seriously 
modify  both  the  vegetable  and  animal  creation.  Some 
plants  have  a  daily  rhythm  of  growth  and  rest;  most 
of  them  ha\c  an  aiiiuial  one;  all  seek  the  sun.  Even 
the  moon  influences  the  growth  of  some  plants. 

In  the  animal  world  there  are  corresponding  rhythms. 
'Growth  is  faster  in  summer  than  in  winter,  and  we  can 
each  observe  annual  rhythms  in  our  mental  moods 
according  to  the  seasons.  Certain  states  of  mind  and 
even  trains  of  thought  are  likely  to  recur  with  each 
season.  ".Spring  poetry,"  so  much  laughed  at,  or 
something  corresponding  to  it,  is,  I  suspect,  written 
by  many  more  people  than  are  willing  to  acknowl- 
edge it. 

The  monthly  rhythms  seem  to  be  especially  con- 
nected with  the  reproductive  and  nervous  systems. 
The  period  of  gestation  in  various  species  of  animals  is 
usually  a  month,  or  a  number  of  days  which  is  seven  or 
some  multiple  of  seven.  Disturbances  of  the  nervous 
system,  recurrent  insanities,  abnormal  cravings  for 
liquors  and  other  stimulants,  are  also  likely  to  have 
a  monthly  rh}'thin. 

Weekly  rhythms  are  less  clearly  marked,  but  as  we 
saw  in  the  chapter  on  growth,  there  is  a  weekly  rhythm 
of  growth  which  was  probably  the  cause  of  the  change 
in  our  manner  of  living  on  Sunday.  It  has  led  to  cer- 
tain rhythms  of  thought  and  feeling.  We  sleep  later,  we 
are  hungry  at  different  tim(|H,  and  we  think  differently 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


'A^ 


The  daily  rhythm  of  sleep  and  waking  is  a  universal 
one  and  it  seems  to  be  accompanied  by  one  of  growth. 
This  is  a  genuine  organic  rhythm,  caused  probably 
by  the  rhythm  of  day  and  night,  and  can  not  be  easily 
changed  so  that  we  shall  sleep  in  the  day  and  work  at 
night. 

There  are  many  other  bodily  rhythms,  of  which  we 
will  mention  only  a  few:    the  pulse  and   heart  beat, 
respiration,   walking,    and   speech.     Ev^ery        special 
cell  seems  to  have  its  own  rhythm  of  alter-       bodily 
nate  activity  and  rest;  the  nervous  system        rhythms. 
sends   out    rhythmical    stimuli,   differing    in    different 
parts.    Thus  the  brain  can  send  out  only  about  thirteen 
per  second,  and  the  cord  about  thirty-four.     Fatigue  is 
also  a  rhythmical  thing,  a  period  of  exhaustion  alter- 
nating with  one  of  recovery. 

Not  only  is  every  bodily  process  a  rhythmical  one, 
but  every  mental  one  as  well.  Any  one  who  watches 
himself  will  observe  alternations  of  waxing  and  wan- 
ing in  the  distinctness  of  his  ideas  and  mental  images. 
If  he  tries  to  hold  one  idea  unchanged,  he  will  be  able 
to  see  clearly  the  rhythm  of  his  attention.  This  is 
perhaps  best  shown  in  retinal  rivalry. 

As  rhythm  is  such  a  fundamental  thing  in  nature,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  when  given  to  us  objectively  it 
finds  in  us  a  response.  Almost  any  effect  jyiostcom- 
can  be  produced  in  susceptible  people  by  moniy  liked 
appropriate  rhythms,  from  putting  them  to  ^^y*^°is. 
sleep  to  rousing  them  to  a  state  of  frenzy  closely  akin 
to  madness.  Just  what  rhythm  will  have  each  effect, 
is  not  fully  decided  upon.  Baldwin  found  that  when 
he  suddenly  discovered  himself  singing  a  tune,  the 
rhythm  and  time  might  be  "4etermined  by  any  one  of  a 


342 


THE    CHILD 


number  of  factors — his  step,  as  he  walked,  his  heart 
beat,  or  his  breathinjr.  It  seems  reasonable  that 
a  rln'thni  which  is  in  accord  with  and  slower  than  the 
rhythmic  activities  of  the  body  would  be  soothing;  if 
faster,  exciting,  and  if  of  a  different  kind,  unpleasant. 

I\Ir.  Bolton  found  also  that  in  listening  to  a  scries  of 
uniform  clicks  the  most  common  grouping  within  the 
widest  limits  was  by  2's,  when  the  rate  of  the  clicks 
was  moderate;  wiien  fast,  by  the  heart  beats.  When 
the  stimuli  were  .795  seconds  apart,  the  mind  grouped 
by  2's;  .460,  by  3's;  .407,  by  4's.  Usually  he  found 
that  the  breathing  accommodated  itself  to  the  rh}'thm 
instead  of  vice  versa. 

Whether  a  grouping  is  by  2,  4,  8,  16,  etc.,  or  3,  6, 
12,  etc.,  seems  to  dei)en(l  upon  the  ra[)idity  of  the 
stimuli.  But  why  2  or  3  is  chosen  is  unexplained, 
unless  it  varies  with  the  pulse.  Grouping  by  5's  is 
always  very  difficult. 

These  observations  ha\e  been  confirmed  in   another 
way  by  Triplett  and  Sanford.     They  asked  large  num- 
bers of  persons  to  send  in   lists  of  the  first 
Rhymes.  ,  ,  ... 

ten    nurser}'   rhymes   that   came    mto   their 

heads.  Of  these,  they  selected  the  one  hundred  most 
often  mentioned  and  examined  their  rhythm.  They 
found  that, 

I.  The  most  frequent  stanza  is  of  four  lines,  with 
four  stresses,  the  lines  rhyming  in  couplets.  A  com- 
mon example  is: 

"Georgie  porgie,  pumpkin  pie. 
Kissed  the  girls  and  made  them  cry,"  etc. 

2  The  second  in  frecjuency  consists  of  the  first  and 
third    lines   with    four   stresses,   and    the    second    and 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC  -?  1  -i 

fourth  with   three;,  with   or  without  an   internal   rhyme. 

"Mistress  Mary,  quite  contrary. 
How  does  your  garden  grow,"  etc. 

This   rhyme    is   much   less  common   than    the   first,    in 
child  poetry. 

3.  Three  three-stress  lines  and  one  four-stress,  with 
the  last  line  a  repetition  of  the  first. 

"Hickory,  dickory,  dock. 
The  mouse  ran  up  the  clock." 

These  three  rhythms  include  four-fifths  of  the  one 
hundred  nursery  rhymes,  and  one-half  of  the  hymns  in 
a  hymnal  (the  particular  hymnal  not  given).  The 
remainder  of  the  rhythms  differ  widely. 

Triplett  and  Sanford  find  that  in  the  recitation  of 
these  rhythms,  there  is  a  general  uniformity  in  the 
intervals  between  stresses  except  at  the  end  of  lines, 
where  they  are  longer;  and  there  is  a  general  quicken- 
ing of  time  toward  the  end  of  the  piece. 

The  characteristic  movement  of  the  common 
rhythms  depends  partly  on  the  distribution  of  the 
pauses  and  partly  on  this  quickening. 

Tests  on  school  children  show  that  they  force  the 
words  into  a  pattern,  but  also  vary  the  patterns  some- 
what: 


"Sing  a  song  of  six  pence," 


or, 


"Sing  a  song  of  six  pence." 

Turning  now  to  music,  we  find  all  sorts  of  theories 
as  to  its  origin.  Darwin  advanced  the  theory  that 
music  originated  as  a  courtship  art  both  in  birds  and 


344 


THE    CHILD 


in  man,  but  actual  observations  of  the  animals  near- 
est to  man    and    of    savat^es  do  not    seem   to  confirm 
this  \ie\v.    Still  we  may  su[)pose  that  at  first 
music! °  langua<(e  and  music  were   not  distinct,  the 

cry  being  the  common  root  from  which 
the  two  have  developed  in  different  ways.  Music 
proper,  or  melody,  seems  to  arise  first  in  connection 
with  the  dance,  and  the  dance  in  its  original  form  was 
the  reproduction  of  the  activities  of  existence  or,  it  may 
be,  a  propitiation  of  the  gods.  Uniformly  the  dance 
takes  a  rhythmic  character.  At  first  it  is  performed 
in  silence,  but  as  the  dancers  get  aroused  they  give 
vent  to  their  feelings  in  more  violent  movements,  and  in 
cries,  the  cries  naturally  assuming  a  rhythmic  character 
consonant  with  the  movements.  Thus  the  rude  song  is 
born,  a  song  without  words,  and  in  almost  a  monotone. 

This  theory  fits  in  very  well  with  what  we  can  sec  ol 
children's  natural  musical  tastes.  The  development  ol 
melody  and  harmony  is  much  later  than  the  apprecia- 
tion of  rhythmical  cries.  Gurney  says  that  the  former 
does  not  appear  until  four  or  five  years.  We  should 
expect  kindergarten  children  then  not  to  care  so  much 
about  singing  the  melody  as  about  keeping  time. 

The  child,  as  we  have  seen,  is  born  deaf,  and 
remains  so  for  a  time  varying  from  a  few  hours  tc 
se\'eral  days.  When  hearing  is  established, 
ofnois^es°^°  sound  seems  to  have  marked  effects,  for 
small  children  are  more  easily  terrified  by 
loud  sounds  than  by  almost  anything  else.  Preyer  and 
Perez  note  that  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  weeks  a  child 
listened  to  the  singing  of  lullabies  with  much  pleasure 
and  showed  an  appreciation  of  piano  playing  by  his 
vigorous  movements  and   laughter  at  the  loud  notes. 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


345 


Children  of  six  months  show  great  enjoyment  of  music; 
at  nine  months  some  will  reproduce  musical  tones. 
Perez  also  records  the  case  of  a  child  who  sang  himself 
to  sleep,  when  only  nine  months  old.  By  the  age  of  a 
year  some  will  reproduce  tones  quite  perfectly.  Sigis- 
mund  says  that  musical  tones  are  imitated  before 
spoken  ones.  Noises  of  all  kinds  appeal  to  children, 
even  unpleasant  ones,  especially  if  there  is  any  rhyth- 
mic arrangement,  and  they  delight  in  reproducing  them 
as  far  as  possible. 

Children  vary  greatly  among  themselves  and  at  dif- 
ferent ages  in  their  ability  to  distinguish  tones.  We 
find  the  child  who  sings  the  scale  in  one  tone 

from  c  to  c ;  and  another  one  who  can  sing  „!?^tiTf"„„ 
^  o  ness  to  tones. 

the  chromatic  scale  with  ease.    Whether  any 
given  child  is  tone-deaf  or  simply  lacks  training,  can  be 
told  only  by  experiment,  and,  even  if  not  up  to  the  aver- 
age, many  a  child's  ability  can  be  improved  by  practice. 

In  children  from  six  to  nineteen  years  of  age,  the 
least  sensitive  age  is  six,  when  the  least  perceptible 
difference  of  two  tones  is  about  one-quarter  of  a  tone. 
Thence  to  nine  years  there  is  twice  as  much  gain  in 
sensitiveness  as  from  nine  to  nineteen  years;  and  after- 
ward a  more  gradual  gain,  with  a  break  and  retro- 
gression at  ten  and  at  fifteen  years. 

The  actual  tastes  of  children  seem  to  have  been 
little  observed.  Miss  Gates'  and  Mr.  Marsh's  articles 
are  the  only  ones  on  this  subject.  Miss  songs  liked 
Gates  had  answers  from  two  thousand  chil-  t>y  children, 
dren,  one  hundred  boys  and  one  hundred  girls  for  each 
year  from  six  to  sixteen. 

I.  She  found  that  22  per  cent  of  the  girls  and  12  per 
cent  of  the  boys  of  seven  years  like  best  lullabies  and 


346 


THE   CHILD 


baby  songs,  while  14  per  cent  of  the  girls  and  7  per 
cent  of  the  boys  like  home  songs  the  best.  "Home 
Sweet  Home"  is  the  favorite.  Of  the  seven-year-old 
boys  and  girls  43  per  cent  like  school  songs  the 
best;  nature  songs  are  the  favorites.  Twice  as  many 
boys  as  girls  like  negro  songs.  "Swanee  River"  and 
"Massa's  in  the  Cold,  Cold  Ground"  are  the  favorites. 

2.  Religious  songs  are  best  liked  by  two  hundred 
and  ninety-six  girls  and  six  hundred  and  ninety-six 
boys  at  six  years;  23  per  cent  of  the  girls  and  6  percent 
of  the  boys  at  thirteen  years;  27  per  cent  of  the  girls  and 
6  per  cent  of  the  boys  at  sixteen  years,  making  an  aver- 
age of  18  per  cent.     "Nearer  my  God"  is  the  favorite. 

3.  National  songs  are  best  liked  by  13  per  cent  of  the 
girls  and  18  per  cent  of  the  boys  at  seven  years;  29  per 
cent  of  the  girls  at  twelve  years;  40  per  cent  of  the 
boys  at  eight  years.  "America"  and  the"Star  Spangled 
Banner"  divide  the  honors  here.  Marsh  gives  this 
table  of  "The  one  song  he  liked  best  in  all  the  world." 
The  returns  are  from  six  thousand  three  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  children.     The  table  is  given  in  per  cents. 

Boys 


Grade 

School 

Sunday 
School 

Patriotic 

Street 

Home 

I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

II 

43 
39 
29 
12 

7 
6 
II 
9 
3 
3 
0 

10 
II 

8 

10 
II 

4 

ID 

68 
I 
0 

If) 

26 
20 
40 
42 
30 
15 
48 

f)0 

5S 
65 
25 

9 

9 

14 

21 

18 

17 
20 

9 

9 

5 

33 

9 
10 
10 
12 
12 
21 
10 

14 

26 

25 
25 

RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


Girls 


347 


Grade 

School 

Sunday 
School 

Patriotic 

Street 

Home 

I 

3 

5 

6 

7 

8 

() 

TO 

II 

43 
43 
39 

12 

9 
13 
i6 

3 

I 
o 

15 

lO 

It 

15 

9 

IQ 

22 

I 

ID 

29 

13 
15 
25 
32 
37 
20 
32 

21 

47 
27 

6 

6 

8 

15 

17 

21 

2 

7 

4 

0 

ir 
II 
15 
24 
26 

17 
26 

35 
38 
44 

Boys  and  Girls 


Grade 

School 

Sunday 
School 

Patriotic 

Street 

Home 

I 

2 

3 

4 

S 

b 

7 

8 

9" 

10 

II 

45 
42 

39 

19 

9 

7 

12 

13 
3 
2 
0 

13 

16 

9 
14 
13 

7 

15 
16 

7 
26 

23 
23 
31 
35 
41 
43 
37 
44 
59 
53 
26 

8 
8 
II 
16 
17 
17 
21 

5 
9 
5 

7 

10 
II 
12 

13 

18 

24 
14 
21 

27 
33 
41 

Many  reasons  are  given  why  the  favorite  piece  is 
liked.  As  children  grow  older,  more  say  it  is  because 
they  like  the  music  or  words,  and  fewer  because  they 
have  associations  with  it,  or  it  is  nice,  pretty  or  sweet. 
The  associations  are  of  all  sorts — of  home,  Christmas 
or  some  holiday,  with  historical  events,  or  simply  with 
smell  or  some  other  sense.  A  very  small  per  cent  of 
the  favorites  are  movement  songs,  and  as  a  rule  major 
keys  are  preferred  to  minor  ones. 


-.   i3  THE   CHILD 

It  is  interesting  to   note   the  changes  in  taste  with 
advancing  years.     The  school  songs  show  these  varia- 
tions:   boys  and  girls,  43    per   cent   in    ist 
taste^^^^°      grade   to  9  per  cent  and  16  per  cent  in  8th 

grade,  and  none  in  iith  grade. 
S.  S.  songs,  boys,  10%  in  1st  grade, to  16%  in  nth  grade, 
girls,  \^%      "         "        "  29% 

Patriotic  songs  show  remarkal)lc  Huctiiations  in  the 
liking  of  the  boys  and  girls,  as  the  table  indicates. 
Street  songs  increase  in  number  to  4th  grade;  decrease 
slightly  to  the  7th,  and  rapidly  to  the  iith.  They 
then  rise  suddenly  to  33  per  cent  in  nth  grade. 

With  the  girls  the  curve;  is  of  the  same  nature  though 
of  a  smaller  per  cent,  except  that  at  the  nth  grade  it 
decreases  to  0  instead  of  rising. 

The  per  cent  of  home  songs  increases  to  6th  grade, 
falls  in  7th  grade  and  then  increases  gradually. 

The  subject  of  children's  musical  composition  is  one 

that   is  not    considered    nearly  as   often   as   children's 

drawings,  and  yet  there  would  seem  to  be 

songs  by  ^^^  reason   in   the    nature  of    the   case  why 

cliildren.  ■' 

children  should  not  create  songs  as  well  as 

landscapes. 

The  first  musical  productions  are  not  distinct  from 
the  beginning  of  speech.  The  child  cries,  howls, 
gurgles  and  babbles,  not  only  when  he  is  hurt  or 
pleased,  but  just  to  see  what  sounds  he  can  make. 

Sometimes  one  set  of  sounds  takes  possession  of  him 
for  a  time  and  he  will  seem  unable  to  keep  from 
repeating  it.  Perez  gives  a  case  of  a  little  girl  who 
repeated  "tira-tira"  for  two  weeks.  Children  a  little 
older  delight  in  nonsense  rhymes,  in  chain  rhymes,  in 
alliteration,   etc.,   and  will  make  up  all  sorts  of  rhymes 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


149 


and  tunes  for  them.  Children  of  all  ages  experiment 
in  producing  noises  not  only  with  the  vocal  organs 
but  also  with  any  instruments  they  can  get  hold  of.  At 
first  their  song  is  monotonous,  hardly  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  speaking  voice,  but  by  the  age  of  four 
or  five  years  the  two  are  well  marked. 

There  seems  to  be  a  genuine  impulse  to  musical 
expression  in  many  children  which,  although  modified 
by  imitation,  is  still  a  true  originality. 

So  far  as  the  writer's  knowledge  goes,  the  only  sys- 
tematic work  that  has  been  done  by  school  children  in 
song  composition  is  in  the  Elementary  School  of  the 
University  of  Chicago.  This  is  so  suggestive  that  the 
teacher's  account  and  some  of  the  songs  are  given. 

SONG  COMPOSITION* 

That  music  is  an  important  factor  in  the  growth  of 
the  child's  esthetic  nature  is  a  fact  generally  con- 
ceded. Is  it,  however,  practically  made  use  of?  Is 
the  nursery,  which  we  now  realize  must  be  artistic  as 
well  as  wholesome,  furnished  with  the  means  of  pro- 
ducing beautiful  sounds — failing  the  human  voice,  with 
the  vox  Jiumana,  or  other  soft-toned  instrument? 

As  early  as  he  is  shown  beauty  in  color  and  form 
the  child  should  have  beauty  in  tone  and  melody 
given  him.  There  are  no  unmusical  children.  Inter- 
est in  musical  expression  is  one  of  the  natural  resources 
of  the  child,  and  unconsciously  he  will  awaken  to  a 
melodic  conception  through  repetitions,  in  pure  and 
gentle  tone,  of  melodies  suited  to  his  understanding. 
This  process  can  not  be  begun  too  early.  Having 
understood,  he  possesses  a  mental  picture  which  he 
seeks    to    express    by   humming    or    singing.       This 

*  By  May  Root  Kern. 


o  -Q  "^"^    CHILD 

expression  of  an  esthetic  impulse  is  as  natural  to  the 
child  as  his  expression  in  color.  Needing  no  utensil, 
it  is  simpler,  and  would  he  more  readily  used  were  his 
early  environment  as  lull  <^f  tone  as  of  color.  The 
more  he  hears  of  this  music,  the  more  he  assimilates 
and  the  more  he  has  to  express.  And  not  alone 
through  imitation.  If  he  be  given  a  poetic  phrase 
which  touches  his  imagination,  he  can  give  his  own 
melodic  conception  of  it;  and  the  awakening  of  this 
creative  faculty  brings  a  jo}-  which  stimulates  the 
growth  of  his  whole  esthetic  nature. 

There  is  nothing  more  precious  to  a  child  than  his 
own  creation,  and  to  preserve  his  melodic  thought  he 
will  wish  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  symbols  neces- 
sary to  express  it.  The  basis  for  a  study  of  the  science 
of  music  is  formed  by  his  desire  to  express  various 
forms  of  melodic  thought.  He  realizes  the  necessity 
for  the  controlled  use  of  his  fingers  to  express  them 
beautifully  on  the  keyboard,  and  grasps  the  necessity 
of  manual  drill.  His  whole  study  of  the  technique  of 
piano-playing  is  illumined,  and  the  proper  relationship 
of  idea  and  its  servant  expression  has  been  preserved. 
Problems  introduced  by  the  growing  intricacy  of  his 
conceptions  —  key  relationships,  transj^osition,  har- 
mony— are  mastered  with  a  natural  motive,  and,  Kcl 
by  his  own  impulse,  he  is  ready  with  open  mind  and 
heart  to  receive,  according  to  his  capacity,  the  riches 
which  master-minds  are  still  pouring  nto  the  music 
treasuries  of  the  world. 

In  the  school,  a  problem  to  be  coped  with  arises 
from  the  diversity  of  musical  attainment  in  the  groups. 
Children  from  non-musical  environment  are  to  be 
handled  with  (jthers  who  are  developed  musically.     To 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


351 


lessen  the  chasm,  much  thou<4ht  is  given  to  creating  a 
musical  atmosj)heie.  The  formal  side  of  the  work  is 
made  as  melodious  as  j)ossible,  and  all  technical  exer- 
cises are  clothed  in  harmony.  The  children  have 
weekly  opportunity  of  hearing  a  short  program  of 
music  by  the  best  composers,  performed  by  friends  of 
the  school,  by  teachers,  or  by  pupils  prepared  through 
outside  work.  The  older  children  have  heard  short 
and  simple  talks  on  the  lives  and  work  of  the  great 
masters,  illustrated  by  piano  and  vocal  selections.  A 
large  part  of  each  period  of  work  is  spent  in  song- 
singing.  The  school  has  been  divided  into  two 
choruses,  one  ranging  from  six  to  eight  and  a  half 
years  of  age,  the  other  from  nine  to  thirteen.  These 
choruses  have  sung  melodies  learned  by  rote  in  their 
group  work,  the  older  chorus  having  in  its  repertoire 
songs  by  Franz  Schumann,  Wagner,  Reinecke,  Hum- 
perdinck,  and  some  of  the  best  English  composers.  In 
connection  with  their  work  in  Latin,  they  have  learned 
a  Latin  song  of  nine  stanzas  and  a  shorter  Christmas 
hymn;  in  connection  with  French,  several  chansons 
popnlaircs  and  two  old  French  rounds.  The  latter, 
being  very  simple  in  melody,  have  furnished  a  valu- 
able exercise  in  concentration.  There  being  in  this 
chorus  a  considerable  proportion  of  children  unable  to 
sing  a  connected  melody  correctly,  perfection  in  detail 
is  impossible.  The  special  aims,  other  than  famili- 
arity with  good  songs  and  the  memorizing  of  texts, 
have  been  bodily  poise,  deep  breathing,  careful  enunci- 
ation, and  a  pure  quality  of  tone.  A  picked  chorus  of 
twenty-five  voices  is  now  being  arranged  which  will  be 
trained  to  do  some  model  singing  for  the  benefit  of  the 
school. 

23 


^  C2  THE    CHILD 

Owing  to  the  wide  differences  in  musical  develop- 
ment, it  was  difficult  to  find  a  common  ground  for 
the  work  of  each  group  as  a  whole.  The  technical 
work  founded  on  short,  original  phrases  sometimes 
failed  to  arouse  interest  in  those  children  who  but 
imperfectly  grasped  melodic  idea.  The  proposition, 
however,  to  select  a  topic  and  write  a  complete  com- 
posite song,  which  should  express  the  genius  of  the 
group,  brought  a  unity  of  impulse  at  once.  It  was 
supposed  that  the  unmusical  children  would  devote 
themselves  to  the  text  and  leave  the  musical  setting 
to  the  rest.  But  not  so;  the  general  enthusiasm 
awoke  them  to  an  overflow  of  musical  ideas,  and  a 
firm  belief  in  their  own  phrase  as  given.  Whatever 
of  novelty  the  songs  possess  is  owing  to  the  odd  inter- 
vals offered  by  these  non-musical  children.  It  was 
necessary  to  harmonize  them  attractively  to  gain  their 
acceptance  by  the  musical  members  of  the  group, 
who,  left  to  themselves,  would  have  given  only  the 
most  obvious  phrases  and  thus  produced  more  com- 
monplace results. 

After  several  successful  songs  had  been  composed,  a 
group  of  children  between  seven  and  eight  years,  below 
the  average  in  musical  development,  but  having  a 
strong  feeling  for  rhythm,  wrote  the  following,  which 
is  saved  from  monotony  by  the  final  phrase  given  by  a 
boy  almost  tone-deaf.  He  offered  the  phrase,  which 
was  repeated  on  the  piano  as  nearly  as  possible  as  he 
had  given  it.  He  objected,  however,  saying  what  was 
played  was  not  what  he  intended  to  give.  After 
repeated  attempts,  the  teacher  succeeded  in  discover- 
ing what  he  had  persistently  kept  in  his  mind,  but 
could  not  express. 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


353 


CHRISTMAS  MORNING 


Autumn  '98. 


-Jzzl 


1.  One  wiii-ter  morn  Be-fore   the  clawii,  We  woke  and 'twas 

2.  I     had     a   doll  And  she  was  small,  My     broth  -  er 


-Oil  tfj 1 i s-i — N — ^v — Nn — : ^ — j 

^'-^     '  ==i.  ^i—' — -•--*—« — J — •— 

Christ-mas 
had  a 


The  girls  and  the     boys  Quick 
The      ba      -     by,     too,     Had 


i 


E^ 


^i=^ 


:t 


■:X 


^ 


z± 


ran     to  their  toys,  And  all      be  -  gan     to         play, 
some-  thing  new — A      lit   -  tie    dog  named  Spot. 

It  was  at  first  thought  that  the  six-year-old  children 
were  too  young  to  carry  a  thought  through  the  several 
periods  (occurring  but  twice  a  week)  required  to  finish 
a  song.  At  their  request,  however,  they  were  allowed 
to  undertake  the  task,  and  evinced  as  much  continuity 
of  thought  and  purpose  as  the  older  children. 

In  writing  the  texts  for  songs,  the  youngest  children, 
as  soon  as  the  idea  of  rhythm  and  rhyme  is  gained, 
insist  upon  making  consecutive  lines  rhyme  as  in  the 
"Valentine  Song."  They  free  themselves  graduall}) 
from  rhyme  limitations,  as: 

"The  children  will  go 
Out  in  the  snow 
And  have  some  jolly  fun. 
They'll  make  big  balls 
While  the  snow  falls. 
Until  a  snowman's  done.' 


354 


winter  '99. 


THE   CHILD 

VALENTINE   SONG 


1.  Val  -  cu  -  line's   day        is        near    -    ly       here,     We 

2.  I'll  send      my     friend      a  val   -    en  -    tine,    The 


:4=q 


^1 


(P 


:t==t- 


—t 


-^^-^- 


::l=:q= 


* — *-■ — •— Fg=» — 9 — •— 


hope  the  postman  will  bring  lis  cheer;  We'll  clap  our  hands  for 
pret-tiest  one     that         I   can  find;     My  cons -in    will  send 


i 


=t^ 


J^ 


:j— r-^ 


■*-' — #— s^ 


joy  when  he  brings  Tlie  roses,  and  doves,  and  pretty  things, 
one      to  me,   And  then  how    liap-py     we  shall  be. 


*=i=^^^- 


1 


-^^-r- 


-• — F- 


■r 


--5- 

:t=: 


£ 


rt 


i 


Rhythm  and  music 


JDD 


And  final ly,  able  to  conceive  of  the  stanza  as  a 
whole,  realize  that  only  a  minimum  of  rhyme  is  neces- 
sar}'. 

The  twelve-year-old  children  completed  two  lines  of 
a  stanza  for  a  winter  song,  but  the  effort  was  then 
abandoned,  there  being  too  much  self-consciousness  in 
the  group  to  admit  of  free  expression.  Later  their 
creative  impulse  triumphed  and  they  produced  a  song 
for  Lincoln's  birthday: 


Winter  '99. 


LINCOLN 


:1=P4 


^-- 


::t=i 


1.  'Tvvas  in      a  small  log   cab    -    in,    One  Feb-ru  -  a  -  ry 

2.  He  rose   to    be      a    states  -  man  Of   ver  -  y  great    re- 


t± 


:i 


:X 


a 


::#: 


:?^=a: 


i — <s>  -- 


day, 
nown. 


A      lit  -   tie      Lin-coln     ba 
His  wis  -  dom  saved  the    Un 


by      In    a 
ion,     And 


:t=it=:4 


ir 


356 


THE    CHILD 


1=* 


:tft 


small   rude  era  -  die    lay;  When     at      the     age       of 

sla  -   v'ry    he      put  down;      'Tvvas     in      the  spring    of 


1^=5: 


►=it=: 


m 


nt 


JTSt 


^ 


twelve,  By     night  he     stud  -  ied    law,  And 

six   -   ty  -  five  That  mes  -  sen  -  gers   rode  fast  To 


d: 


P^ 


zczi. 


=tfc 


--K=^t=r. 


t     -^ 


when  the  morning  dawned  anew,    A-gain  took  up  his  saw. 
bring  the  news  of  Lincoln's  death, — The  noble  life  had  passed. 


::J: 


::3: 


J-   -^- 


v-=^—tt 


-&  :* 


m 


=1: 


:F=t 


in 


■"^^^ .11    that  Deo  -  pie     tell    That 


358 


THE   CHILD 


The  eigh-year-okl  children  followed  the  song  on 
Lincoln  with  the  above  song  on  Washington. 

Both  of  these  songs  have  been  sung  by  the  younger 
chorus  at  the  respective  anniversaries  for  two  years, 
and  are  asked  for  at  other  times.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  find  songs  written  by  adults  which  would  appeal  to 
the  younger  children's  minds  and  hearts  as  do  these,  in 
spite  of  their  crudities.  The  simplicity  of  thought 
and  expression  in  the  text,  the  sweetness  and  vitality 
of  the  melodies,  exactly  suit  their  needs.  Practical 
trial  for  over  a  year  has  shown  their  preference  for 
some  of  these  school  songs  to  the  best  child  songs 
written  by  adults  that  haxe  been  presented  to  them. 
This  applies  to  children  from  six  to  nine  years  of  age — 
a  time  when  they  are  not  ready  for  involved  idea  or 
melody,  and  yet  resent  singing  about  what  little  dew- 
drop  felt  or  little  pussywillow  said.  The  children 
seem  to  recognize  the  same  attractive  quality  in  the 
subsequent  songs  of  these  two  groups,  viz.,  Fourth  of 
July  and  Spinning  Song. 


Spring  and  Autumn  '99. 


SPINNING   SONG 


r^:& 


•-,-•- 


n 


1.  The  spinniug  wheel  goes  'round  so  fast, It  uiakes  a  sound  like 

2.  The  spinning  wheel  it     hur-ries  on,  And  makes  so  many 

r\  jM 


=?=«=~^" 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


359 


fczt 


-?=)—- 


3^ 


this, 
things, 


Br The  threads  they 

Br It      goes      as 


-^-3 — ^ j — t* — ^1 — • — '"•' 


:p=t: 


-N-, 


ifzjft 


twist  and    nev  -  er      miss;       We'll  weave  the  threads  as 
with      a      hun-dred     wings;    From    cot  -  ton,  wool,  and 


EX 0 — ,^0 0 ^_gi_L  -_J_g_5__ V-0~-A — I — • — I- 


:=d: 


tight  as  we  can,      To  make     the  can  -  vas    strong.    And 
silk  worms' cocoons  It  makes  thread, yarn, and    silk,        And 


;6o 


THE   CHILD 


--^ 


33 


:±=IK= 


::t 


=t 


then  we'll  shai)e  it    in  -   to  tents,  With  poles  just  twelve  feet 
then  we  dye  theui  brilliant  tints,  Or  bleach  them  white  as 


I 


-^-»- 


Ion 
ni 


"IW    f      ^    spin  -  niiig  wheel,  O     spin-ning  wheel,  How 


-i=:i: 


:^-t 


e 


:p=t 


pret    -   ti  -  ly       you    go!  O      I     could  spin    on 


-# — I — #- 


li 


-A ^ 


5—; 


-V— ^« 


you 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


-^3^ 


S=P=1: 


— w-i — I- 


=i: 


361 

m 


all  day       Be  -  cause      I     like      you       sol. 


&•-        -m-      -*-•       i 


^^H 


S ^_!- 


;=- 


As  Easter  approached,  the  six-year-old  children, 
filled  with  anticipation  of  the  day,  asked  to  write  a 
song  about  it.  One  child  gave  the  first  line  with  its 
melody;  others  quickly  followed  with  the  second  and 
third  lines.  The  fourth,  however,  required  persistent 
effort  before  the  requirements  of  rhythm  and  rhyme 
were  met.  The  children  showed  no  diminution  of 
interest  in  wrestling  with  the  problem. 


EASTER   SONG 


Winter  '99. 


East  -  er  day  is  coming  soon, The  rabbits  will  be  here  and  lay: 


In  the  gar-defi  we  shall  find  Eggs  to  paint  and  give  a-way. 


Attempts    made    by   the    youngest    classes    of     this 
school  year  have  resulted  equally  well: 


THE  CHILD 

SANTA  CLAUS* 


V ^- 


San  -ta  Clans,  Sail-  ta  Claus  is   coming,-ting  -  a  -  ling!  The 


:i|v=1=q=d: 


■» • M- 


m^ 


i 


rein -deer  are  rac-inj^  and  the    lit  -  tie  bells     ring;    He's 

A — \ r^- 


^;I:^^=:^:^^zt:: 


^~A- 


-M • m ! 1 ^^ P 


-N— • ' 


bringing  toys  for    lit-tleboys,Anddollsfor  lit -tie  girls,     And 


bring-ing  for   the    b.i   -   by     A   wool -ly  lamb  with  curls. 

The  group  composed  entirely  of  musically  developed 
children  was  the  last  to  produce  a  connected  song. 
The  original  scheme  of  work — the  study  of  selected 
songs  with  its  detail,  and  the  learning  of  symbols  for 
their  own  short  melodic  phrases — contented  them. 
Emulation,  howx^ver,  urged  them  to  write,  and  they 
undertook  the  task  as  imitators,  thus  with  less  exhilara- 
tion than  the  others  showed. 

Later  a  second  impulse,  more  genuine  than  the  first, 
resulted  in  one  of  the  best  of  the  school  songs: 


*To  musicians  these  songs  are  unusually  interesting  from 
their  close  resemblance  to  early  folk-songs  and  narrative  ballads, 
especially  to  the  early  German  and  English  folk-songs.  "Santa 
Claus",  for  instance,  might  be  taken  intact  from  an  old  choral,  for 
its  simplicity,  its  movement,  and  the  feeling  for  minor  in  the 
si.xth,  seventh  and  eighth  bars.  A.  E.  T. 


Spring  '99. 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 

BOAT   SONG 


363 


T 


-N-n 


1,  Tlie  boat    is  rock    -   iiig,  rock  -  iiig,     While  we're  on  the 

2.  The     sun      sets  in  the     ev  -  '.iing,And  glit-ters  on   the 


H-H-* — •-• — • ' — • — r* — !-•-• — '-• — F^ — 1-* — S — 1-5 — 


-A--, 


ii=d: 


-A-^J 


.Et=z:p: 


-IS-r- 


^ 


sea; 
sea; 


The  wind     blows       the  sails  gen-tly  on,    And 
Gulls  dive  un -der  tlie      wa        -        ter,  Then 


-' 1 -+— ' 1 — t -r— -^ ^ 

-t-#— 1-« 1— ^ -I— ^-i \ l^f^ 


m 


3= 


-(22^- 


W^ 


=^p 


f:d-^ 


t4-< 


spray  dashes  up    to     nie. 
fly    in    the  air    so    free, 


The    lit- tleniennaidsare 
Swift  ly   up    lo  their 


s*"3  "' 


-0-   -#-^*- 


^\-i-# — ^-# — • •- 

• 9 


lEE 


:=sz=d=]=:z=:t= 


;64 


THE   CHILD 


^S=^ 


float 
nest 


Hugs, 


Float  -  iiig  far  a  -  wa}-; 

Up  -  on.   the  rocks      so    high; 


-0 , — 0 1 1 J_-| 0 J , 1 ^    II— i H 


m 


dc 


t^. 


i 


Deep,  deep  in   the  wa  -  ter,     I    see  the  sea-weed  sway. 
Tberethey  stay  in  the  dark-ness,Till  morning's  glow  is  nigh. 


8va. 


q:i=S=q=;=F:*ifJ!=^?«««£t^^|1 


^^ , 


gi: 


;f: 


Jl.. 


r-r 

8va. 


:f=: 


l^^^ll 


Composition  work  with  the  children  has  value  in 
proportion  to  its  being  an  imtrammeled  expression  of 
their  own  musical  consciousness.  The  teacher's  task 
is  to  encourage  through  beautifying  the  child's  thought 
by  harmonic  background.  A  stenographic  report  of 
the  process  of  writing  the  text  for  a  song  by  a  group 
eleven  years  of  age  is  an  illustration  of  the  method  of 
procedure: 

The  following  three  lines  had  been  made  the  week 
before: 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC  ^65 

The  icicles  hang  from  the  windows  high, 
And  the  wind  goes  shrieking  and  howling  by; 
The  bright  moonlight  shines  down  on  the  snow, 

Some  one  wanted  an  adjective  for  snow  and  sug- 
gested "glittering,"  which  was  objected  to  on  account 
of  rhythm. 

And  one  little  rabbit  goes  jumping  below, 

was  suggested  for  the  last  line.  Some  of  the  children 
objected  to  having  the  rabbit,  saying  that  it  was  such 
a  cold  night,  he  would  not  be  out,  and  suggested 
instead: 

And  hunters  through  the  woods  do  go. 

Another  child  suggested  that  the  hunters  would  not  be 
out  at  night;  another  insisted  that  that  would  be  just 
the  time  they  would  be  returning  from  a  deer  hunt. 
Some  one  wanted: 

And  hunters  walking  about  below. 

Another  suggested  substituting  "Indians"  for  "hunt- 
ers."    Another  suggestion  was: 

No  flowers  are  blooming  down  below. 

From  time  to  time  the  teacher  re-read  the  lines,  so 
that  they  could  get  the  rhythm,  and,  after  a  while, 
none  of  the  lines  suggested  after  the  first  being 
regarded  as  equal  to  the  first,  they  went  back  to  that. 
"Little,"  "lonely,"  "hopping,"  and  "father"  were  sug- 
gested as  describing  the  rabbit.  "Lonely"  was  finally 
accepted  as  best  suited  to  the  verse.  "Hunting"  was 
substituted  for  "jumping,"  as  more  suggestive,  and  the 
line  as  finally  accepted  read: 

And  one  lonely  rabbit  goes  hunting  below. 


366 


THE   CHILD 


The  teacher  suggested  that,  as  the  first  verse  was 
about  night,  the  second  be  about  the  day. 

Some  of  the  children  wanted  a  chorus.  The 
teacher  suggested  that  this  was  not  a  jolly  song,  so 
that  it  did  not  lend  itself  easily  to  a  chorus;  but  if  one 
appropriate  could  be  thought  up,  it  could  be  used. 
None  could  be  thought  of  at  the  time,  so  the  second 
verse  was  begun. 

The  first  line  suggested  was: 

As  the  day  grows  near  and  the  night  grows  far. 

"Comes,"  and  finally  "draws,"  was  suggested  in  place 
of  "grows,"  and  "passes"  in  place  of  "grows  far." 
"Passes  away"  was  objected  to  on  account  of  the 
number  of  syllables. 

The  teacher  suggested  that,  as  they  were  going 
from  a  night  verse  to  a  day  verse,  it  would  be  well  to 
put  the  night  idea  first.     It  was  then  given: 

As  the  night  disappears  and  the  day  draws  near. 
The  next  line  was  at  once  suggested: 

Again  the  cheerful  birds  we  hear 
The  next  two  lines  were  suggested  as: 
Jumping  about  on  the  fleecy  snow, 
Hopping  around  do  the  snow  birds  go. 
One  of  the  children  suggested  that  the  snowbirds  are 
about  a  house,  and  she  wanted  the  song  about  a  lonely 
place   on   the   mountains.      The    last    two    lines   were 
objected   to   on   the  ground   that  birds  had  just  been 
mentioned.     The  child  who  proposed  the  line  said  she 
was  simply  telling  what  the  birds  did.     Then  this  was 
opposed  on  the  ground  that  in  the  first  verse  the  rab- 
bit had  been  doing  about  the  same  thing. 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


367 


The  teacher  suggested  that  they  refer  again   to  the 
rabbit  and  tell  what  became  of  him  in  the  day. 

And  the  same  little  rabbit  goes  hopping  away, 
For  he's  found  something  to  feed  him  that  day, 

was  suggested.  "Same"  was  objected  to,  "little"  sug- 
gested in  its  place,  and  finally  "gray"  accepted.  '"'For" 
objected  to,  and  "because"  rejected,  and  finally  "with" 
accepted.  One  of  the  children  wanted  to  suggest 
"ma7igcr"  for  "to  eat,"  saying  that  French  words  were 
often  used  in  a  song. 

The  whole  song  as  finally  accepted  read: 

The  icicles  hang  from  the  windows  high. 
And  the  wind  goes  shrieking  and  howling  by; 
The  bright  moonlight  shines  down  on  the  snow. 
And  one  lonely  rabbit  goes  hunting  below. 

As  the  night  disappears  and  the  day  draws  near, 
Again  the  cheerful  birds  we  hear; 
And  the  little  gray  rabbit  goes  hopping  away 
With  something  to  eat  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 


A  WINTER    SONG 


winter  igoo. 


-\/- 


1.  The        i  -   ci-cles  hang  from  the  win-dows  high,  And  the 

2.  As  the  night  dis-ap-pears  and  the  day  draws  near,  A  - 


-^-^ 


MTJt- 


24 


368 


THE    CHILD 


;=ii; 


E 


wind     goes  shriek-ing    and  howl  -  ing     bj-;        The 
gain      the      cheer     -      ful     birds     we     hear;     And    the 


bright      niocn  -  light       shines  down  on   the  snow,  And 
lit  -  tie     grey     rab  -  bit    goes  hop-ping  a  -  way,  With 


J?: 


one    lone  -  ly 
something  to 

T 


rab  -  bit     goes   hunt -ing      be  -  low. 
eat     for      the    rest      of      the    day. 


i 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


369 


The  melody  of  this  song  was  given  without  criticism 
by  the  four  members  of  the  group  present,  one  musical 
phrase  from  each  child  in  succession,  so  that  text  and 
song  were  completed  in  two  half-hour  periods.  The 
smaller  the  group,  the  less  confusion  arises  from 
various  phrases  being  given  at  the  same  time.  To 
avoid  this  confusion  it  was  at  first  attempted  to  give 
each  child  in  turn  an  opportunity  to  offer  a  phrase, 
with  the  result  that  none  were  offered.  The  work  can- 
not be  done  under  formal  restrictions. 

As  no  record  has  been  kept  of  rejected  phrases  in 
the  process  of  writing  a  song,  only  the  method  of 
procedure  can  be  given  here. 

After  the  children  have  selected  their  topic  and 
written  their  text,  a  musical  setting  for  the  first  line  is 
called  for.  A  quick  response  usually  follows.  If 
several  phrases  are  given,  the  children  choose  their 
favorite.  The  second  phrase,  suggested  by  the  first, 
follows  readily.  The  third  usually  presents  more  diffi- 
culty. It  is  unconsciously  realized  that  this  in  a 
four-phrase  song  gives  the  character  to  the  whole  and 
should  contain  a  climax,  and  it  is  criticized  and  labored 
over,  sometimes  during  several  periods.  The  final 
phrase  is  usually  an  obvious  one;  the  readiest  child 
gives  it,  and  others  remark  it  is  just  what  they  were 
going  to  offer.  Originality  in  a  final  phrase — as  in  the 
Winter  Song — is  greeted  with  enthusiasm. 

That  composition  work  gives  the  children  a  grasp  of 
rhythm  is  shown  by  the  way  they  handle  it  in  making 
their  songs  effective.  A  seven-year  group  completed 
a  Snowman  Song  in  3-pulse  measure  rhythm  and  sang 
it  to  the  school.  Later  they  felt  that  its  flowing 
rhythm   was    not   suited    to    the    requirements    of   the 


370 


THE    CHILD 


words  and  found  by  experiment  that  by  using  the  more 
energetic  4-pulse  the  character  of  their  melody  became 
what  was  desired. 

The  twelve-year-old  children  after  completing  their 
rollicking  Fourth  of  July  song  experienced  a  reaction. 
They  felt  they  had  not  expressed  their  highest 
musical  consciousness,  and  wished  at  once  to  begin  a 
song  into  which  they  would  put  their  best  effort. 
As  the  Fourth  of  July  song  had  met  with  enthusiastic 
approval  from  the  school,  this  impulse  showed  a  nor- 
mal growth  and  as  such  was  encouraged.  That  it  was 
genuine  was  proved  by  the  children's  slow  and  critical 
work,  lasting  through  the  remainder  of  the  spring  quar- 
ter, resumed  after  the  summer  vacation,  and  carried  on 
through  more  than  one-half  of  the  autumn  quarter. 
They  suggested  and  directed  the  piano  accompaniment 
at  important  points,  and,  after  the  song  was  completed 
and  sung  to  the  school,  further  embellished  it  by  add- 
ing a  second-voice  part. 

No  claim  is  made  that  these  are  productions  of 
genius,  any  more  than  the  average  child  s  drawings  are. 
The  point  is  that  they  compare  favorably  with  his  draw- 
ings, and  even  with  many  school  songs.  Above  all,  they, 
like  all  constructive  work,  cultivate  the  appreciation  of 
the  details  and  beauties  of  a  piece  that  can  never  be 
reached  simply  by  singing  other  people's  productions. 

When  we  say  that  children  should  hear  and  be  taught 

only  good  music,  we  are  saying  vain  words,  for  there 

is    as   yet   no   unanimity   as   to   what  good 

cMidren'*        uiusic  for  children  is.     Much  is  condemned 

as  unchildlike,  as  not  appealing  to  children; 

while  gay  jingles  that  make  them  jump  with  glee,  are 


RHYTHM    AND    MUSIC 


371 


characterized  as  "rag  lime."  Between  this  Scylla  and 
Charybdis  the  average  parent  and  teacher  can  not  hope 
to  steer.  We  can  not  tell  good  music  from  had,  and 
we  may  as  well  confess  it  and  adopt  on  faitli  the 
tenets  of  some  one  school,  without  hoping  to  under- 
stand their  reasons. 

We  should  not,  in  any  case,  neglect  the  subject,  for 
music  has  undoubtedly  an  effect  upon  tlu;  emotional 
disposition.  Plato  excluded  from  his  ideal  republic 
all  music  except  that  which  stimulates  courage  and 
the  nobler  emotions.  All  nations  from  the  earliest 
times  have  employed  music  at  critical  periods  to 
stimulate  them  to  a  greater  effort  than  was  possible 
without.  To-day  physicians  employ  it  for  the  bene- 
ficial effect  upon  the  insane,  idiotic,  imbecile,  and 
neurotic.  We  can  not,  therefore,  afford  to  neglect  it 
in  education. 

REFERENCES 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.    Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes, 

3:^8-350.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $3.00. 
Bolton,  T.  S.     Rhythm.     A)ii.  Jour,  of  Psy.,  1894,  145-234;  esp. 

i45-i74>  204-234. 
Biicher,  Karl.    Arbeit  unci  Rythmus.    Arb.  d.  Sachs.  Ges.  d.  Wiss. 

(Phil.  HLst.  Kl.),  1896,  Vol.  XVII.,  130. 
Chamberlain,    A.    F.      The    Child,     174-197,     180-182,    452.      L. 

W.  Scott,  §1.50. 
Dewey,  John.     Rhythm,  Psycho  to  i^y,  1S5-7. 

Music.     Elementary  School  Pecord,'^o.  2.     Chicago.    Univ. 

of  Chicago  Press,  §0.17. 
Gates,  F.  B.     Musical  Interests  of  Children.    Jour.  0/  Ped.,  1898, 

Vol.  II. 
Gilbert,   J.  Allen.      Musical    Sensitiveness    of    School    Children. 

Stud/cs  of  Yale  Psy.  Lab.,  Vol.  I.,  80-S7. 
Gilman,  B.  J.     Musical  Expressiveness.     Am.  Jour.  0/  Psy,  42-73. 
Groos,  Karl.      The  Play  of  Man,  1%-^^.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  §1.75. 


72 


THE    CHILD 


Hofer,  Mari  Ruef.     A  Child's  Song.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  6o2-()04. 
Matthews,  W.  S.   B.     Music  as  Discipline  and  Culture.     Music, 

Vol.  VI.,  349-365- 
Marsh,    Florence.      Musical    Phases    of     Child     Study.       Proc. 

N.  E.  A.,  1S96,   S91-892.      (Abstract  of  Hall  and  Marsh's 

Early  Musical  Manifestations.) 
McDougall,  R.      Music   Imagery.      Psy.   Rev.,  Vol.   V.,  463-476. 

(Account  of  a  personal  experience.) 
Meyer,  Max.     How  a  Musical    Education  Should    Be  Acquired. 

Ped.  Sem.,  1900,  124-131.     (Account  of  Hooker's  method.) 
Preyer,  W.     Senses  ufid    Will.      See  Index.     N.  Y.    Appleton, 

§1.50. 
Sully,    James.      Studies   of  Childhood,    195-308,  409-492.      N.  Y. 

Appleton,  §2.50. 
Tomlins,  W.  S.     Music,  Its  Nature  and  Influence. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

Drawing 

1.  Before   reading   this   chapter,   draw   the   story  of 
Goldilocks    and    the   Three    Bears.       Then    compfare 
with  the  pictures  and  descriptions  given  in        observa- 
the  chapter.  tioiis- 

2.  Make  a  collection  of  drawings  of  the  story  of 
Goldilocks.      Observe  these  precautions: 

(i)  Tell  the  story  to  the  children  just  before  they 
draw,  so  that  it  will  be  vividly  present  to 
their  minds. 

(2)  Give  them  as  much  choice  in  the  material  for 

drawing  as  possible  —  crayon,  black  and 
colored  pencil,  paints,  etc.,  large  and  small 
sheets  of  paper. 

(3)  Give  them    as    much    time   as    they   want,  but 

have  the  pictures  finished  at  one  sitting. 

(4)  In  the  case  of  little  children,  label  at  the  time 

any  ambiguous  objects. 

3.  Make  a  collection  of  children's  spontaneous  draw- 
ings, especially  of  the  very  first  ones,  made  by  the 
child  of  eighteen  months  or  so.  Note  how  much 
encouragement  the  child  received,  and  how  much 
criticism  and  instruction. 

4.  Keep  a  dated  record  of  the  child's  likes  and  dis- 
like? of  colors  and  bright  objects. 

As  far  back  as  we  can  penetrate,  ancient  peoples 
always  had  a  love  for  bright  objects,  or  for  rare  or 

373 


374 


THE    CHILD 


(.-Lirious  thiii,t;s,  and  always  loved  to  decorate  them- 
selves.    Amon<^  savage  people  of  to-day,  there  are  the 

.       ,  same    desires.       Many    motives    unite    to 

Love  for  _  - 

beauty  strciiii^then  these  feelin^^s,  such  as  the  desire 

universal.  ^^^^.  admii-.itjon  from  the  opposite  sex,  and 
the  instinct  of  property;  but  there  seems  also  to  be  a 
spontaneous  love  for  bright  and  glittering  things,  that 
is  the  germ  of  the  esthetic  sense. 

What  the  origin  of  artistic  creation  or  expression  was 
is  still  niuch  disputed.  It  is  so  di\'orced  from  prac- 
tical values,  so  apart  from  e\'eryda}'  life,  that  many 
have  considered  it  a  sort  of  excrescence  that  can  not 
be  explained  by  natural  laws.  It  seems  most  reason- 
able, however,  to  suppose  that  it  was  at  first  the  occu- 
pation of  an  idle  hour  when  the-  primitive  man's 
supply  of  food  was  abundant,  when  he  had  rested,  and 
when  his  mind  recalled  in  thought  the  previous  expe- 
riences of  the  chase  or  of  war.  Then,  in  the  song  and 
the  dance,  he  reproduced  the  catching  and  killing  of 
the  prey;  or  with  a  sharp  stone  drew  them  u})on  his 
hunting  knile. 

Both  of  these  intcrt:sts  a[)pear  in  little  children; 
they  love  to  hoard  up  bright  things  and  to  deck  them- 
selves with  them;  they  reproduce  in  play  and  some- 
times in  drawing  their  own  experiences,  although 
this  first  drama,  song,  or  drawing  is  crude,  and  the 
love  for  it  often  intermittent.  To  trace  the  character 
of  the  growth  of  these   interests  is  our  present  object. 

The  subject,  of  children's  artistic  sense  includes 
properly  drawing,  painting,  modeling,  music  and 
story-telling.  Only  drawing  and  music  can  be  consid- 
ered here,  with  occasional  references  to  the  other 
branches   of  art,  and   it  should  be  understood  that,  as 


DRAWING 


375 


in   all   the    subjects   with    which   we  have    dealt,    it    is 
impossible  to  free  the  child  entirely  from  adult  influ- 
ence. At  the  very  least,  his  taste  is  affected 
by  the   pictures  in   his  home,   the  style  of        \^q^^^ 
furniture,    clothes,    etc.,    and  usually  he   is 
helped  in  his    first  attempts  to  draw  by  a  copy  made 
by  his  elders,  and  his  own  work  is  criticized  or  praised. 
For  the  sake  of  convenience,  the  subject  of  drawing 

may  be    divided    into    two    parts:    (i)    the 

.      .  r      ■  I    /  \      1  1       Love  of  color, 

appreciation  of  pictures,  and   (2)   the  mak- 
ing   of    pictures.     Under    the    first   head    will    also   be 
included    the   very   few  observations    that    have    been 
made  on  children's  color  sense. 

The  baby  is  first  attracted  by  bright  objects,  regard- 
less of  their  color  or  form,  especially  if  they  are  mov- 
ing. Preyer's  boy  showed  delight  on  the  twenty-third 
day  at  the  sight  of  a  brightly  lighted  rose-red  curtain, 
and  when  he  distinguished  colors,  at  the  age  of  two, 
red  and  yellow  were  favorites,  and  blue  and  green 
least  acceptable.  So  also  with  Miss  Shinn's  niece. 
Baldwin's  child,  on  the  contrary,  liked  blue  best,  white 
and  red  following  closely.  Unfortunately  no  yellow 
was  used  in  Baldwin's  experiments.  Brown  was  a 
nearly  neutral  color  to  his  child  and  to  Miss  Shinn's 
niece.  As  a  rule  we  should  probably  find  that  the 
bright  luminous  colors  would  be  chosen;  thus  a  bright 
blue  would  be  preferred  to  a  dark  red  or  vice  versa, 
regardless  of  the  color  to  a  certain  extent.  But  there 
is  little  evidence  on  this  point.  Another  character- 
istic to  be  noted  here  is  that  contrast  plays  a  large  part 
in  a  child's  appreciation  of  colors. 

Appreciation  of  form  is  not,  at  first,  separated  from 
movement,  color,    and   size.      Children   as   a   rule   like 


o--^  THE    CHILD 

little  thinj^'s,  probably  l)ecause  they  have  the  feeling  of 

power  over  them,  of  ability  to  protect  and  caress  them, 

which    thc\-    cannot    have    toward  a    large 

Love  of  form.      ,  .  .'      ^  r      i      i  ^  l 

object.       In    form  we  nnd  also  not  so  much 

a  love  for  symmetry,  though  that  is  present  crudely,  as 

for  the  movements  of  the  object,  and  for  those  qualities 

which  are  connected  with  the  children's  own  lives. 

Sully  thinks  that  the  love  of  flowers  is  the  nearest 
ajjproach  of  the  child  to  pure  esthetic  enjoyment, 
although  different  (lualities  attract  different  children. 
With  some  the  enjoyment  is  almost  entirely  one  of 
smell;  with  others,  a  love  of  personal  adornment.  It 
seems  to  be  much  the  same  with  very  small  boys  and 
girls,  but  later  the  bows  learn  to  despise;  th(,'ir  leanings 
toward  such  things. 

In  all  this,  the  child  follows,  in  the  main,  the  race 
development:  bright  or  gaudy  colors  before  delicate 
ones,  and  the  utilitarian  value  of  objects  before  the 
esthetic.  This  ai)pears  again  in  the  fact  that  few 
children  care  about  landscape  beauty.  The  sublimity 
of  mountain  or  of  sea  arouses  only  fear,  and  the  beau- 
tiful and  lovely  are  lost  in  the  child's  interest  in  some 
detail  that  appeals  to  him. 

It  is  said,  how  truly  I  do  not  know,  that  in  Greek 
literature  there  are  very  few  passages  that  show  any 
esthetic  appreciation  of  nature.  The  sea  is  the  barren 
sea;  the  land  is  much  plowed,  fertile,  wooded,  etc., 
the  adjectives  always  pointing  to  the  value  to  man. 

At  first  the  baby  acts  like  an  animal  with  regard   to 

representation  of  objects.      He  thinks  the  reflection  in 

the  "lass  is  a  real  thing,  as  the  animal  does 
Love  of  '^  . 

pictures.          the'  \vell-i)aintcd   picture,  and  as  the  savage 
thinks  that  his  reflection  in  the  water  is  his  spirit-double. 


DRAWING 


77 


At  a  very  early  age,  even  as  early  as  eight  months, 
some  children  learn  to  recognize  pictures,  and  they 
reach  to  them  as  to  realities.  The  discrimination  in 
such  cases  may  be  quite  fine.  Miss  Shinn's  niece, 
when  fourteen  months  old,  picked  her  father  out  of  a 
group  of  nine,  although  the  face  was  scarcely  more 
than  one-fourth  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  This  recogni- 
tion, however,  is  a  very  different  thing  from  recogniz- 
ing the  picture  as  a  picture,  /.  r.,  as  a  symbol  or  copy 
only,  of  no  use  in  itself.  Children  do  not  learn  this 
nearly  as  readily.  Even  at  four  years  we  sometimes 
see  them  trying  to  feed  the  picture.  One  boy  at  this 
age  saw  a  picture  of  people  going  to  church.  The 
next  day  on  seeing  it  he  exclaimed  in  surprise  because 
they  were  not  yet  there.  Miss  Shinn's  niece,  at  the 
age  of  three  saw  a  picture  of  a  chamois  defending 
her  kid  from  an  eagle,  and  put  her  hand  between 
them  to  defend  the  kid.  At  the  age  of  two  she  tried 
to  lift  the  painted  branch  that  lay  across  a  lamb  in  a 
picture. 

We  see  the  same  thing  in  the  tendency  to  consider 
a  drama  as  a  reality,  in  the  confusing  of  the  make- 
believe  Santa  Claus  with  the  real  one,  etc.  Only  by  slow 
degrees  does  the  child  learn  to  take  one  object  as  rep- 
resenting another,  and  as  having  no  value  in  itself. 
The  use  of  symbols  seems  to  be  an  acquired  power, 
not  a  natural  one,  and  at  first  there  is  confusion  of  the 
symbol  with  the  reality  for  which  it  stands,  in  pro- 
portion as  the  feeling  is  strong.  We  see  this  illus- 
trated again  and  again  in  adult  life,  in  religious 
observances. 

Whether  children  at  any  given  age  recognize  clearly 
the  difference  between  the  picture  and   the  object  or 


378 


THE   CHILD 


not,  their  likes  are  interesting  to  us  from  the  stand- 
point of  schoolroom  decorations.  Mr.  O'Shea's  obser- 
^•ations,  at  first  glance,  are  rather  discour- 
ITerZls.  ^Sn^i;.  He  found  that  the  children,  as  a 
rule,  cared  nothing  for  the  reproductions  of 
classics.  Colored  pictures,  even  the  crudest  chromos, 
and  "cunning"  pictures  —  little  children  and  animals 
playing — were  always  chosen  except  when  Santa  Claus 
or  the  Mother  and  Child  were  present.  In  many  cases 
when  asked  what  pictures  were  in  their  schoolrooms 
the  children  would  be  able  to  name  only  one  or  two 
out  of  a  large  number.  The  others,  apparently,  had 
made  no  impression  upon  them.  They  were  over 
their  heads  figuratively  as  well  as  literally.  If  this  is 
true  of  children  generally,  the  problem  of  schoolroom 
decoration  is  hardly  as  simple  as  many  people  think. 

We  are  wont  to  assume;  that,  given  the  money  and  a 
knowledge  of  classical  painting  and  sculpture,  a  per- 
fectly equipped  school  will  result.  I  have  been  in 
several  schools  that  to  the  adult  eye  are  wonderfully 
artistic  in  their  decorations,  considering  the  scanty 
means  at  the  teacher's  disposal.  But  how  much  do 
the  children  get  out  of  it?  The  same  question  might 
be  asked  about  many  of  our  kindergarten  rooms. 

Now,  we  are  not  reduced  to  nothingness  if  we  do  pay 
attention  to  the  children's  tastes.  There  are  the 
Madonnas,  and  the  many  beautiful  pictures  of  little 
children.  In  animal  life  the  paintings  of  Landseer^ 
and  Rosa  Bonheur  make  a  good  beginning,  and  there 
are  many  others.  We  need  not  lower  our  standards  of 
the  esthetic,  but  simply  change  our  subjects,  accord- 
ing to  the  interests  of  the  children.  If  this  were  care- 
fully carried  out,  the  pictures  in  the  eighth  grade  room 


DRAWING 


79 


would  be  (luite  different  in  subjects  from  those  of  the 
kindergarten,  instead  of  both  onl\'  reflecting  the  teach- 
er's tastes. 

A  more  practical  aspect  of  the  liking  for  pictures  is 
brought  out  by  Mr.  Lukens.  He  says  that  children 
are  interested  especially  in  pictures  that  have  stories 
connected  with  them,  and  frequently  are  interested  in 
them  only  when  the  story  is  told.  lie  suggests  accord- 
ingly,, that  the  pictures  in  primers  should  stimulate  the 
child's  curiosity  and  so  rouse  a  keen  desire  to  learn 
how  to  read. 

In  considering  childish  creations  or  inv^entions,  we 
should  properly  include  much  more  than  their  draw- 
ings, but  we  can  only  touch  upon  these 
other  things  here.  All  such  forms  of  o^irawing^ 
activity  are  very  closely  related  to  play,  in 
so  far  as  they  are  spontaneous,  but  in  the  adult,  at 
least,  they  are  distinct  from  it  in  that  they  involve  a 
social  aspect  not  essential  to  play. 

Dewey  says  that  the  artist  differs  from  the  artisan  in 
that  he  sees  in  his  work  its  social  value,  and  sees  him- 
self as  a  medium  for  the  expression  of  social  forces. 
That  is,  the  shoemaker  who  appreciates  the  social  pos- 
sibilities in  shoes  would  become  an  artist. 

The  child  at  first  makes  no  distinction  between  the 
fine  and  the  useful  arts.  Only  by  degrees  does  he 
separate  the  value  to  himself  from  the  general  value; 
the  useful  from  the  beautiful.  His  first  activities  arc 
controlled  b}^  his  own  enjo^^ment  of  them  and  not  by 
any  results  that  are  objecti\'ely  useful  to  him  or  to 
others.  This  is  play  par  excellence.  So  the  virtuous 
acts  of  a  child  are  not  \'irtuous  to  him,  but  are  repeated 
because    they  give   him    the   approval    of   others.      It 


38o 


THE   CHILD 


would  be  intcrcstinj:^  to  find  out  at  what  age  vanity  or 
the  love  of  one's  own  beauty  would  develop  if  it  were 
not  forced  by  the  talk  of  the  child's  elders.  One 
would  hardly  expect  it,  or  the  love  of  pretty  clothes  as 
such,  to  appear  before  adolescence,  except  in  the 
crudest  way,  in  the  love  for  bright  things  that  we  have 
already  mentioned. 

When  we  consider  what  children  themselves  draw, 
we  have  one  valuable  way  of  discovering  their  inter- 
^j^g^^  ests.     Actually  they  seem   to  draw  almost 

children  everything   that   they   have   ever   seen,  but 

draw.  i.    •  •         X.    •    i  i         1 

certain    promment    interests    also    appear. 

The  observations  that  have  been  made  give  these 
results:  Little  children,  as  a  rule,  do  not  draw  objects 
that  are  before  them.  Of  objects  that  were  absent,  45 
per  cent  drawn  between  five  and  six  were  human  figures, 
23  per  cent  animals,.  35  per  cent  plants  and  flowers,  32 
per  cent  houses,  40  per  cent  still  life,  5  per  cent  con- 
ventional design,  3  per  cent  ornamental;  between 
fourteen  and  seventeen  years  ornament  and  design  rose 
to  8  and  37  per  cent;  human  figures  made  up  5  per 
cent,  animals  10  per  cent,  plants  11  per  cent  and 
houses  4  per  cent.  These  were  drawings  made  in 
school,  and  the  same  things  appear  in  1232  sponta- 
neous drawings.  If  we  put  together  all  the  pictures 
containing  human  figures,  they  aggregate  nearly  three- 
fourths  of  the  entire  number.  Figures  in  motion  are 
more  commonly  drawn  than  figures  at  rest,  and  show 
greater  ease. 

Mr.  O 'Shea's  observations  also  confirm  these  as 
regards  ornament.  He  found  that  children  under  five 
never  tried  to  draw  the  accessories  of  a  figure;  50  per 
cent  of  those  eight  years  old  tried  and  87  per  cent  of 


KiNii!  i;<,Ai;  1  i.N   Pictures* 


Character  Per  cents 

Scenes 15 

Fragments 81 

Interiors I 


Character  Percent! 

Series I 

Houses 75 

Trees    57 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 68 

Girl 6g 

Bears  and  Girl 46 


*  About  one  hundred  children  from  each  grade  were  asked  to  draw  the  story  of  Goldi- 
locks and  the  Three  Bears.     This  series  shows  the  average  of  each  grade. 


Plat 


DRAWING 


381 


those  sixteen  years  old.  Miss  Flander's  observations 
show  the  same  thing. 

Mr.  Lukens  again  presents  for  our  consideration  the 
practical  value  of  such  spontaneous  drawing.  He 
advocates  it  as  a  harmless  method  of  inoculation 
against  real  escapades.  That  is,  he  appears  to  think- 
that  the  boy  who  draws  vividly  the  various  scenes  in 
the  life  of  Daredevil  Dick  of  Coyote  Range  will  have 
no  desire  thereafter  to  run  away  from  home  and  live 
out  some  of  the  adventures  about  which  he  has  read. 
Possibly  a  good  drawing  of  himself  smoking,  swearing, 
etc.,  will  take  the  place  of  the  reality,  and  he  will 
escape  the  temptations  of  craps  and  playing  for  keeps 
by  picturing  his  defeat  in  them! 

However  this  maybe,  there  is  little  doubt  that  draw- 
ing is  often  a  good  test  of  the  child's  understanding 
of  the  words  he  uses.  Doubtless  you  are  familiar 
with  the  child's  pictorial  rendering  of  "The  Old 
Oaken  Bucket" — a  circle  for  the  well;  three  buckets, 
for  the  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket,  and  the 
moss-covered  bucket;  and  a  number  of  dots  representing 
the  "loved  spots  that  her  infancy  knew."  Again,  most 
sketches  of  Jack  and  Jill  show  them  as  twin  brothers. 

In  tracing  the  development  of  a  child's  drawing  a 
very  neat  parallel  has  been  worked  out  between  it  and 
speech,  thus: 

SPEECH  DRAWING 

1.  Automatic  cries  and  reflex  i.  Automatic  and  aimless 
or  impulsive  sounds.  scribble. 

2.  Imitation  of  sounds  but  2.  Scribbling  localizations; 
without  meaning.  imitation  of  movement  of  hands. 

3.  Understanding  of  words  3.  Same,  with  onljr  simplest 
without  speaking,  except  such  localization  of  features  by  scrib- 
words  as  names.  bling. 


382 


THE   CHILD 


SPEECH 

4.  Repetition  of  words  as 
mere  sounds  when  said  to  him 
(brief  stage  and  of  little  impor- 
tance). 

5.  Use  of  words  to  express 
his  thoughts. 

6.  Study  of  grammar  and 
rhetoric. 


DRAWING 

4.  Copying  from  others  to 
see  how  to  get  right  effect  in 
use  of  lines. 

5.  Picture  writing,  illustrated 
stories,  etc. 

6.  Study  of  technique  of 
drawing. 


Baldwin's  observations  on  his  daughter  have  been 
confirmed  by  later  observers,  and  may  be  given  here 
as  illustrating  the  development  outlined 
^°^'  above.  Beginning  with  the  nineteenth  and 
extending  to  the  twenty-seventh  month,  he  found  that 
the  drawing  was  only  the  vaguest  imitation  of  the  move- 
ment of  his  hand,  no  connection  being  recognized 
between  the  hand  work  and  the  lines.  Helen  could 
identify  the  copy,  but  not  her  own  drawing  unless  she 
remembered  what  she  had  been  trying  to  make.  The 
same  drawing  would  serve  for  a  man  or  an  animal,  as  she 
pleased.  Sometimes  also  a  child  will  l)cgin  scribbling 
either  aimlessly  or  with  the  intention  of  making  some 
object,  and  will  accidentally  happen  upon  some  unex- 
pected form.  He  will  then  adopt  this  and  copy  it  again 
and  again.  For  instance,  a  small  boy  happened  to  make 
curls  that  looked  like  smoke,  whereupon  he  exclaimed 
in  glee,  "Puff,  puff!"  and  made  more.  The  only 
development  here  is  in  the  freedom  of  movement. 
The  lines  change  from  angular  straight  lines  to  curves; 
instead  of  running  all  one  way,  reverse  movements  with 
loops  occur,  although  the  lines  are  almost  always  hori- 
zontal or  sloping  slightly  to  the  right  like  ordinary  hand- 
writing. As  would  be  expected,  the  entire  arm  is  used 
at  first  and  later  the  wrist  and  finger  movements. 


«' 


hf 


~h 


Character  Per  cents 

Scenes j; 

Fragments 6; 

Intcriius I 


First  Gkade  Picture 

Character  Per  cents 

Scries I 

Houses 84 

Trees ;; 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 69 

Girl 5° 

Bears  and  Girl ?2 


I' I 


>C'''^ 


Churailer  P, 

Scenes 

Fragments 

Interiors 


M  .   .  I.N  II     (.  1;  All!'.     I'M     1  IKli 

Character  Per  cents 

Series O 

Houses  9J 

Trees 6$ 


Character  Per  cents 

Bcais 61 

Girl 69 

Bears  and  Girl 39 


Flat( 


DRAWING  oQ') 

In  the  twenty-seventh  month  Helen  got  the  idea  of 
making  each  part  of  the  figure,  and  from  that  time 
there  was  the  attempt  to  make  a  copy,  to 
follow  an  idea  or  object.  She  saw  the  con- 
nection between  the  pencil  marks  and  the  thing  that 
she  wanted  to  make  and  now  directed  her  attention  to 
the  marks  instead  of  to  the  movements.  This  is  the 
time  when  drawing  or  the  representation  of  an  object 
really  begins.  Up  to  this  time  the  use  of  the  pencil 
has  been  only  a  form  of  exercise;  now,  it  is  a 
new  language.  It  shows  one  interesting  feature  in 
common  with  language,  and  that  is,  that  the  first 
drawing  tends  to  stand  for  all  things.  Thus  Helen 
first  drew  a  man.  Later,  in  drawing  birds  she  put 
into  her  drawing  many  of  the  marks  which  stood 
for  a  man. 

In   this  early  work,  the  children   do   not   appear  to 

copy   from    the  object,  even  when    it   is  before   them. 

A   child    told  to  copy  a  man   lying  down, 

draws  him  as  she  draws  other  men,  stand-      *J^^, ^  ^* 

'  they  know. 

ing  up.  She  may  notice  later  the  discrep- 
ancy, but  at  the  time  it  does  not  trouble  her  at  all. 
She  draws  the  object  as  she  knows  it,  not  as  she  sees 
it,  because  the  picture  is  a  true  language  to  her.  Thus 
she  shows  people  through  the  sides  of  the  houses,  and 
all  the  sides  of  the  house,  and  the  legs  of  the  chair, 
etc.,  regardless  of  the  actual  appearance. 

A  child  has  little  or  no  technique,  and  so  simplifies 
many  things  until  the  drawing  seems  to  be  little  more 
than  a  symbol  of  the  object;  but  that  it  is  not  sym- 
bolic to  him  is  shown  by  his  putting  in  striking  details 
to  identify  particular  persons  or  things.  He  has  no 
sense  of  proportion   or  perspecti\e.       Men   are   taller 

26 


384 


THE    CHILD 


than  houses,  birds  and  dogs  are  of  the  same  size,  and 
all  appear  in  one  plane. 

Barnes  thinks  that  this  lack  of  unity  in  the  picture  is 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  child  thinks  in  very  small 
units,  and  fails  to  look  at  the  picture  as  a  whole.  He 
draws  the  outside  of  the  house,  then,  going  on  with  his 
story,  he  shows  the  people  doing  various  things  inside 
the  house,  forgetting  bout  the  outside.  It  comes  out 
again  in  the  fact  that  often  a  child  will  repeat  some 
detail  in  the  story  again  and  again  without  seem- 
ing to  notice  the  rest.  One  child  drew  twenty-six 
Johnnies  in  "Johnnie  Guck  in  Die  Luft"  and  nothing 
else. 

Almost  without  exception  the  first  pictures  are  out- 
lines or  diagrams,  not  mass  drawings.     Whether  they 

are  symbolic  and  conventional,  or  diagram- 
Outlines.  .-    .  .  ^    ,.  o   ,,      t-    , 
matic   IS  a   point  of  dispute.     Sully  thinks 

that  they  very  soon  become  coin-entional,  that  the 
child  adopts  a  cer'iin  outline  for  man,  another  for 
trees,  etc.,  and  sticks  to  it  regardless  of  the  various 
kinds  of  men  and  trees  that  he  knows.  Lukens,  on 
the  other  hand,  re  "ds  this,  when  it  occurs,  as  a  case 
of  arrested  develo  ent  and  to  be  deprecated.  If  the 
child  is  allowed  t^  velop  freely,  he  thinks  that  there 
will  be  a  progress  le  ]5roduction  of  natural  effects. 

I  am  inclined  to  ;  with  Mr.  Lukens  on  this,  and  I 

feel   sure  that  wh:  .  .Sully  says  is  true,  that  many 

children  are  really  ito  this  conventionalism  by  our 

very  methods  of  teac  One  mass  appearance  repre- 

sents apple-trees,  ai,o  pines;  and  we  teachers  fre- 

quently do  not  know  enough  to  appreciate  an  individual 
apple-tree  when  the  budding  Corot  gives  us  one,  but 
condemn  him  to  draw  apple-trees  in  general. 


ThIKI)    GKAUE    I'lClUKE 


Characti-r                  Per  cents  Charmter                  Per  cents 

Scenes 85         Series 8 

Fragments 2         Houses 86 

liiti-ri.-is ?  Trees S^; 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 46 

Oirl 72 

Bears  an.l   r;irl 28 


y 


/  y^\.- 


'ka 


P 
n 


Fdiirth   Gkade  Pict'.-e- 

Character  Per  cents  Character  Per  cents  Character  Per  cents 

ttcenes 84         Series 3  Bears 34 

Fragments 007         Houses 86  Girl 77 

interiors 12         Trees 83  Bears  and  Girl 2j        Plat 


DRAWING  385 

We   have  already  seen   that  the  object  most  often 

chosen  by  the  children  is  the  human  figure.      In  draw- 

incT  this,  they  begin  with  the  full  view  of 

Drawing 
the  head.     At  first  only  eyes  and   mouth        of  a  man. 

are  put  into  it,  and  the  body  is  a  mere  jum- 
ble of  lines.  Later,  arms  and  legs  are  added  to  the 
head,  and  after  a  time  a  body  appears,  but  even  then 
the  arms  may  come  out  of  the  head  for  some  time. 
Barnes  found  that  full  faces  predominated  until  the 
age  of  nine,  and  then  profiles.  In  the  transition 
stage,  the  profile  may  be  drawn  with  two  eyes  and 
ears.  As  we  should  expect,  with  right-handed  children 
the  profiles  and  animals  face  to  the  left,  and  the  child 
draws  the  animal  from  the  head  back. 

In  the  drawing  of  horses,  the  observations  of  Miss 
Caroline  Flanders*  show  these  percentages:  For  first 
grade    children,    six    to    seven  iO. 

years   old,   30  per  cent  turn   to  rl') 

the  right,  65  per  cent  to  the  left,  ^-^    //        /| 

and  12^  per  cent  to  the  front;  diagram  14.  in  drawing  a 
58   per    cent   are  profile;    12)^  horse  twenty -five  per 

r     11    r  i.  Cent  OF  the  Children  be- 

per  cent  full  face;  25  per  cent  ^^^^^  six  and  seven  pro. 
are  ambiguous  creatures.     (See         duce  ambiguous  creatures 

^^ .  ,  ,1  Like  This, 

Diagram  14.)  73  percent  have 

eyes;  51^  per  cent  nose;  60  per  cent  mouth;  58  per 
cent  ears;  85  per  cent  tail;  iGy/z  per  cent  mane;  31^ 
per  cent  hair;  96  per  cent  legs,  varying  in  number  from 
one  to  four. 

Goldilocks  was  drawn  by  the  kindergarten  children, 
22  per  cent  of  the  drawings  facing  left;  13  per  cent 
front;    36  per  cent  right;    7  per  cent  back.      In   the 

*  Unpublished  data  on  1,000  Chicago  school  children  from  kin- 
dergarten through  eighth  grade. 


■.3()  THE   CHILD 

second  j,rradc  fewer  faced  front,  and  more  sideways; 
and  in  the  seventh  and  eif^hth  gratles  most  faced  to 
tlic  left.  Joints  we're  first  drawn  by  li)iirlh  ;;rade 
children. 

In  the  illiistratinj.^  of  stories,  ICarl  Harnes  found  that 
freedom  in  drawing,  as  shown  1)\'  tlie  number  of  scenes, 
increases  up  to  tin:  a.ijc'  of  thirteen,  and 
Drawing  (h^.,i   decreases    to    sixteen.     All    the   chil- 

dren who  declined  to  draw  were  over  thir- 
teen. Here  again  we  find  the  self-consciousness  of 
adolescence,  the  feeling  of  inabilit)'  in  the  presence  of 
new  ideals. 

In  all  cases,  the  children  prefer  large,  distinct  fig- 
uies,  especially  for  the  hero.  In  the  story  of  Johnnie, 
the  little  boy  is  often  made  much  larger  than  the  men 
who  rescue  him.  We  have  a  nice  analogy  here  in  the 
Greek  custom  of  representing  heroes  and  gods  as 
larger  than  ordinary  men. 

We  find  a  similar  case  in  the  (exaggerations  given  to 
details  which  are  j^rominent  in  the  child's  mind.  A 
pair  of  glasses  will  dominate  the  entire;  picture;  a 
watch  chain  will  spread  o\'er  tin;  whole  front;  \'est 
buttons  of  heroic  proportions  will  appear,  or  some 
characteristic  attitude  will  be  represented  in  its 
extreme.  The  child  is  an  unc(Miscious  caricaturist. 
One  curious  fact  here  is  that  the  catastrophe  is  not 
drawn  nearly  as  often  as  the  scenes  just  preceding  and 
following  it.  Mr.  Barnes  lays  this  to  a  sense  in  the 
children  like  that  in  adults,  which  leads  them  to  enjoy 
most  the  suspense,  and  afterwards  the  pleasure  of 
rescuing  the  lucky  hero.  It  seems  that  one  may  fairly 
question  this  explanation,  thou.L;h  it  is  difficult  to  offer 
asatisfactory  one   in    its   place.     W'e  can  hardly  think 


character  Per  cents 

Scenes 84 

Fragments o 

Interiors 15 


Fifth  Grade  Picture 

Character  Per  cents 

Series o 

Houses 8j 

Trees. ...    77 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 28 

Girl 64 

Bears  and  Girl 9 


Sixth  Grade  Picture 


Character  Per  cents 

Scenes 61 

Fragments 20 

interiors i7 


Character  Per  cents 

Series o 

Houses. .    58 

Trees 59 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 36 

Girl     58 

Bears  and  Girl 22 


Plat 


DRAWING 


387 


the  children  would  consider  the  catast-'ophe  too  diffi- 
cult. Perhaps  it  may  seem  too  complicated  to  attract 
them. 

The  observations  made  by  Miss  Flanders  upon  one 
thousand  children  from  four  to  fifteen  years  old,  who 
drew  the  story  of  Goldilocks  and  the  Three  Bears, 
confirm  Professor  Barnes',  and  add  some  further  inter- 
esting details.     Many  of  the  drawings  were 

with    colored    chalks,    which    the    children  Experiment 

-  ,        ,  .  ,      .  ,       •  1     'witli  Story  of 

preferred  when  given   a    choice,   and  with  Goldilocks. 

which  they  drew  better  than  with  black  and 

white.     In  the  kindergarten,  most  of  the  children   use 

lines  instead  of  mass;  a  few  mass,  and  a  few  both.     In 

the  first  grade,  where   instruction   in  drawing  begins, 

the  figures  are  almost   equally  divided    between    the 

two;    and  beyond   the  first  grade,  mass   is  used  nearly 

always,  showing  the  effect  of  instruction.      This  again 

leads  to  the  conclusion  that  children  naturally  draw  in 

line,   even   when   given   a   medium    like    crayon,   that 

lends  itself  to  mass;  but  that  they  can  soon  be  taught 

to  see  and  draw  in  mass. 

The  effect  of  the  teacher  upon  the  children  also 
comes  out  very  distinctly  in  these  papers.  Where  the 
teachers  like  drawing  the  children  are  freer  in  expres- 
sion, improve  more  rapidly,  and  enjoy  the  work  better. 

The  gradual  changes  in  the  pictures  from  kindergar- 
ten through  eighth  grade  drawings  are  shown  in  the 
series  running  through  this  chapter.  The  fig- 
ures with  each  picture  show  the  percentage  andtce^™s° 
of  children  in   that  grade  who  drew  essen- 
tially the  same  picture,  and   also  the  variations   from 
it.    'The  remarkable  thing  about  these  pictures  is  their 
uniformity  of  scene.     Why  do  the  children  choose  a 


-,gg  THE   CHILD 

scene  which  is  really  so  littU-  connected  with  the  story? 
Why  do  thiy  take  a  landscape  instt-ad  of  an  interior? 
In  the  second  ^'rade,  sky  and  ground  are  shown  as 
meeting;  before  that,  with  a  space  between.  There 
were  very  few  scries  of  drawings,  probably  because  the 
children  have  not  been  shown  how  to  draw  in  that 
way.  In  the  higher  grades  more  detail  appears  in  the 
drawings.  Throughout,  the  details  are  copied  from 
what  the  children  see  about  them — a  peculiar  style  of 
window;  high  stair  in  front  of  the  house;  family  por- 
traits on  the  walls.  The  totals  of  Miss  Flander's  work 
are  seen  in  the  following  summary. 

All  the  pictures  have  houses:  lo  per  cent  in  mass; 
80  percent  in  line;  9  percent  in  both;  14  per  cent 
transparent;  5  per  cent  with  doors;  12  per  cent  with 
knobs;  2  per  cent  with  door  panels;  69  per  cent  with 
windows;  6  per  cent  with  curtains;  65  per  cent  with 
chimneys;  41  per  cent  with  smoke. 

Sixty-eight  per  cent  have  trees:  9  per  cent  in  line, 
73  percent  in  mass,  and  16  per  cent  in  both;  34  P^r 
cent  have  forests,  and  i  per  cent  flowers. 

Sky  and  ground  are  shown  by  65  per  cent,  ground 
alone  by  15  per  cent,  and  sky  alone  by  less  than  I  per 
cent. 

Bears  are  shown  by  47  per  cent;  with  bear  shapes  27 
per  cent,  human  shape  20  per  cent,  animal  shape  21 
per  cent.  Their  faces  are:  profile  55  per  cent,  full  23 
per  cent,  double  21  per  cent.  Of  features,  20  per  cent 
have  eyes,  45  per  cent  tails,  9  per  cent  arms. 

Goldilocks  is  drawn  by  66  per  cent.  She  is  allowed 
head,  neck,  body,  skirt  and  feet  by  l\<,  per  cent;  head, 
body  and  feet  by  ^y,  per  cent;  head,  skirt  and  feet  by 
\0%  per  cent;  head,  body,  skirt  and  feet  by  68>^  per 


character  Per  cents 

Scenes 45 

Fragments. .  .      9 

Interiors 9 


Seventh  Gkaue  Picti.  1:1; 

Character  Per  cents 

Series 36 

Houses 70 

Trees 70 


Character  Per  cents 

Bears 61 

Girl 73 

Bears  and  Girl 46 


Eighth  Grade  Picture 


Character  Per  cents 

Scenes 52 

Fragments 18 

Interiors    20 


Character  Per  cents  Character  Per  cents 

Series 9  Bears z^ 

Houses 68  Girl 56 

Tree- 64  Bears  and  Girl 14         Pla 


DRAWING  189 

cent;  head  and  skirt  only  by  2%  per  cent;    full  face  in 
22/^  per  cent;  doubtful  outlines  in  41^  per  cent. 

As  to  features,  she  is  allowed  eyes  by  23^:^  per  cent; 
nose  by  2i>^  per  cent;  mouth  by  19/^  per  cent;  ears  by 
I  per  cent,  and  hair  by  <\'j%  pcr  cent;  feet  by  76  per 
cent;  shoes  by  33  per  cent;  arms  by  50  pcr  cent;  hands 
by  9^  per  cent;  fingers  by  5>^  per  cent. 

Certain  conclusions  are  easily  reached  on  the  basis 
of  these  facts.  It  is  evident  that  drawing  should  begin 
with  the  human  figure  as  a  whole  and  not  piguresvs. 
with  conventional  designs,  and  should  only  conventional 
by  degrees  work  up  to  the  analysis  involved  ®^^s^^- 
in  the  latter.  The  method  of  using  drawing,  to  illus- 
trate stories,  scenes  from  child  life,  etc.,  is  to  be  com- 
mended  instead  of  a  conventional   course  in  drawing. 

Ruskin  laments  the  devotion  of  the  school  to  geo- 
metrical forms.  He  says:  "A  great  draughtsman  can, 
so  far  as  1  have  observed,  draw  every  line  but  a  straight 
one.  When  the  child  longs  to  turn  out  men,  dogs, 
cars,  horses,  heroes,  etc.,  he  is  showing  his  freedom; 
but  he  is  bidden  to  draw  a  straight  line,  a  curve  or  the 
like.  When  nature  intended  him  to  be  as  yet  a 
player,  an  artist  only,  the  school  seeks  to  make  him  a 
geometrician;  when  he  desires  to  make  many  lines,  he 
is  confined  to  one;  when  he  endeavors  to  produce  a 
whole,  it  seeks  to  make  him  produce  parts  only. 
Neither  the  child  nor  primitive  man  begins  with  a 
geometric  line -it  is  in  a  scribble  that  the  history  of 
graphic  art  lies  hid." 

These  facts  would  also  lead  us  to  conclude  that  chil- 
dren draw  naturally  in  outline  instead  of  in  mass,  and 
that  shadow,  etc.,  should  be  introduced  by  degrees  as 
the  child  learns  to  separate  knowledge  from  sight.     It 


)90 


THE  CHILD 


can  hardly  be  said  that  all  these  children  would  use 
outline  naturally  if  there  were  not  some  reason  for  it. 
Technique  should  be  introduced  slowly.  Probably  by 
the  age  of  nine  most  children  will  ap[)reciate  some 
help  in  this  direction. 

Too  often  children  are  simply  taught  certain  tech- 
nical tricks,  but  are  not  taught  to  observe,  with  the 
icsult  that  high  school  boys  and  girls  draw  no  better 
than  those  in  the  third  grade.  Back  of  all  drill  in 
technique  must  be  the  observant  and  interested  mind 
striving  to  express  an  idea.  So  above  all  things  we 
must  take  care  not  to  destroy  a  child's  spontaneous 
love  f(jr  drawing  by  making  him  self-conscious  and 
distrustful.  The  ideal  thing  would  be  for  us  all  to 
draw  as  easily  as  we  write,  when  it  will  serve  our  turn, 
and  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  if  given  the 
proper  training. 

REFERENCES 

Amberg,  J.  D.  R.  Drawing  in  General  Education.  Education, 
Vol.  XIV.,  26S. 

Baily,  H.  T.  A  First  Year  in  Drawing.  Report  on  Drawing 
(Industrial)  va^Sth  Ann.  Kept,  of  Mass.  Board  of  Educa- 
tion (1893  and  1894). 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark.  Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Proc- 
esses, 50-57,  81-96.     N.  Y.     Macmillan,  $3.00. 

Balfour,  H.     Evolution  of  Decorative  Art. 

Barnes  E.     Studies  in  Education.     See  Index.     Chicago.    Uni- 
versity of  Chicago  Press. 
Study  of    Children's    Drawings.      Fed.    Sein.,  1S92,  455-463. 

Barrett,  H.  V.  Drawing  in  Elementary  Schools.  Mag.  of  Art, 
Vol.  VIII.,  pp.  326,  425. 

Brown,  E.  E.     Art  in  Education.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  iSgg,  112-121. 
(Pictures,  tragic  and  comic,  for  the  .schools.     General.) 
Notes  on  Children's  Drawings.      U.  of  Cal.  Studies,  Vol.  II. 
(Good.) 


DRAWING 


391 


Clark,  A.  B.      Child's    Attitude    toward    Perspective    Problem. 

Barnes' s  Studies  in  Ed.,  pp.  283-204.    Chicago.    University 

of  Chicago  Press. 
Clark,  J.  S.     Children's  Drawing.     Educ.  Rev.,  1897,  Vol.  XIII., 

76-82. 
Cooke,  E.      Art  Teaching  and  Child  Nature.    Jour,   of  Educ, 

December,  18S5,  and  January,  1SS6. 
Coole,  E.     The  A.  B.  C.  of  Drawing.     Special  Kept,  of  Educ. 

Dept.  of  Gr.  Britain.     London,  1897. 
Dewey,  John.      I/naginati07i  and  Expression— the  Psychology 

of  Drawing.     Chicago.    Kgn.  Lib.  Co.,  §0.15. 
Elementary   School  Record.      Number  on   Art.      Chicago. 

Univ.  of  Chicago  Press,  $0.17. 
Fitz,  H.  G.      Freehand  Drawing  in  Education.     Pop.   Sc.   Mo., 

October,  1897,  75  5-765- 
Gallagher,  Margaret.    Children's  Spontaneous  Drawings.     N.  W. 

Mo.,  1897,  130-134. 
Herrick,   Mary  A.      Children's   Drawings.      Pcd.    Sent.,    1S94-6, 

338-339- 
Hicks,  Mary  Dana.     Color  in  Public  Schools.      Proc.  N.  E.   A., 

1894,  906-915. 
Art  in  Early  Education.     Ped.  Sent.,  1892,  463-466. 
Hogan,   Louise.     Study  of  a  Child.     Harper's  Mo.,  June,  1898. 
Locker,  J.  C.     With  What  Should  Drawing  Begin  ?    Proc.  Intern. 

Cong.  Ed.,  p.  491,  N.  Y.,  1894. 
Lukens,  H.  T.     Drawing.     Proc.  N.  E.  A.,  1899,  945-51- 

Children's   Drawings  in    Early  Years.    Ped.     Sem.,    1896-7, 

79-110.     (Gives  pictures.     Good.) 
Maitland,   M.  L.      What  Children   Draw  to  Please  Themselves. 

Inland  Ed.     Vol.  I. 
Eskimo  Drawings.     N.   IV.  Mo.,  June,  1899,  443-450. 
Mason,  W.  A.     Psychology  of  the  Object.      Educatioti,  Vol.  XV. 
O'Shea,  M.  V.     Children's  Expression  through  Drawing.     Proc. 

N.  E.  A.,  1897,  1015-23.     (Good.) 
Some  Aspects  of  Drawing.     Ed.   Rev.,  October,   1S97,  Vol. 

XIV.,  263-2S4.     (General.) 
Parker,  F.  W.      Talks  on  Pedagogics.      Chapter  X.      Chicago. 

Flanagan,  $1.50. 
Pedagogical    Seminary,    1S91,    445-447.      Notes    on    Children's 

Drawings. 


392 


THE   CHILD 


Perez,  B.    L'ari  cl  la  poesic  chcz  I' enfant.    Chapter  on  Drawing. 

Paris.     Alcan,  $i.oo. 
Plessy.      Typical   Children's   Drawings  and   Some  Conclusions. 

Applied  Art  Book,  October,  1901,  Vol.  I.,  12-19. 
Ricci,  C.     Summary  of  His  Work.      Ped.  Sem.,  1S94-6,  pp.  302-7. 
R(M)per,  T.  G.      Drawing  in  Infant  Schools.     N.    Y.    Kellogg, 

•^0.15. 
Runcinan,  J.     Drawing  in  London  Board  Schools.     Mag.  of  Art, 

Vol.  VIII.,  218. 
Schnieder,    H.    G.       Drawing    in    the    New   York    City    Public 

Schools.     Education,  Vol.  XVII.,  304. 
Shinn,  Milicent.     Notes  on  the  Development  of  a  Child.      U.  of 

Cal.  Studies,  Vol.  I. ,  p.  96. 
Spencer,  Herbert.     Education.     N.  Y.    Appleton,  $1.25. 
Sully,  James.     Studies  of  Childhood.     Chapter  on    Art.     N.  Y. 

Appleton,  $2.50. 
Warren;  S.  E.     Industrial  Drawing  as  an  Element  of  Industrial 

Education.     Education,  Yo\.  IV.,  367. 
Woolner,  T.     Value  of  Drawing.     Mag.  of  Art,  Vol.  XV. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

Play 

1.  Get  data  from  children  of  all  grades  in  fall,  win- 
ter, spring  and  summer,  as  to  the  play  that  observa- 
they  like  the  best  of  all.  tions. 

2.  Get  data  about  clubs  and  societies  that  are  formed 
and  managed  without  adult  encouragement  and  aid. 

3.  Keep  records  as  to  the  plays  of  little  children. 

4.  Collect  accounts  of  plays  and  games  used  in  formal 
education,  stating  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  used 
and  how  far  they  accomplish  the  purpose. 

In  taking  up  the  subject  of  play,  we  shall  find  many 

connections  with  the  topics  previously  discussed.     Play 

seems  to  be  to  a  large  extent  the  form  in 

which   childish   ideas  express    themselves.       Education 

.       .  .  ^°  play. 

It  is  to  the  child  what  his  life-work  is  to 

the  man,  and  shows  therefore  most  clearly  what  his 
nature  is  when  left  to  himself.  On  this  account  obser- 
vation of  the  free  play  of  children  is  of  great  assistance 
to  a  teacher  in  learning  their  true  characteristics. 

Even  from  the  earliest  times  there  have  been  edu- 
cators who  differed  from  the  Hinterschlag  professor. 
This  worthy  man  knew  of  the  soul  only  "that  it  had  a 
faculty  called  memory  and  could  be  acted  upon 
through  the  muscular  integument  by  the  application  of 
birch  rods."  On  the  other  hand,  2300  years  ago  Plato 
said:  "The  plays  of  children  have  the  mightiest 
influence  on  the  maintenance  of  laws — from  the  first 

393 


->0  1  THE    CHILD 

years  of  chiklhooti,  tlnir  plays  ought  to  be  subject  to 
laws,  for  if  they  are  arbitrar)'  ami  lawless,  how  can 
children  ever  become  virtuous  men,  abiding  by  law?" 
Aristotle  advised  that  th<„-  children  before  five  years  of 
age  "should  be  taught  nothing  lest  it  hinder  growth, 
but  should  be  accustomed  to  use  much  motion — and 
this  can  be  acquired  by  various  means,  among  others 
by  play,  which  ought  to  be  neither  too  illiberal  nor  too 
laborious  nor  lazy."  Luther  tells  us  that  "Solomon 
did  not  prohibit  scholars  from  play  at  the  proper  time. 
A  young  man  shut  up  (without  recreation)  is  like  a 
young  tree  which  ought  to  bear  fruit  but  is  planted  in 
a  pot  " 

Locke  asserts  that  "the  gamesome  humor  of  child- 
hood which  is  wisely  adapted  by  nature  to  its  age  and 
temper,  should  be  encouraged,  to  keep  up  their  spirits 
and  improve  their  health  and  strength.  The  chief  art 
is  to  make  all  that  children  have  to  do,  sport  and 
play."  He  invented  games  for  teaching  reading,  and 
suggested  others.  Richter  in  his  Levana  says  that 
"activity  alone  can  bring  and  hold  serenity  and  hap- 
piness. Unlike  our  games,  the  plays  of  children  are 
the  expressions  of  serious  activity,  although  in  light, 
airy  dress.  Play  is  the  first  poetical  (creative)  utter- 
ance of  man."  Schiller  says,  "Man  is  man  only  when 
he  plays." 

Finally   Froebel,    in   the    Education   of   Man,   says: 

"Play  is  the  highest  phase  of  the  child  development — 

for  it  is  self-attentive  representation  of  the 

Froebel  on       i„,ier  life  from  inner  necessity  and  impulse. 

play.  .  ••,••<■ 

Play  IS  the  purest,  most  spiritual  activity  ot 

man,  at   this  stage,    and   at    the   same   time   typical   of 

human  life  as  a  whole,— of  the  inner,  hidden,  natural  life 


PLAY 


395 


in  man  and  all  things.  It  gives  joy,  freedom,  content- 
ment, inner  and  outer  rest,  peace  with  the  world.  It 
holds  the  sources  of  all  that  is  good.  A  child  that 
plays  thoroughly,  with  self-active  determination,  will 
surely  be  a  thorough,  determined  man,  capable  of  self- 
sacrifice  for  the  promotion  of  the  welfare  of  himself 
and  others.  The  spontaneous  play  of  the  child  dis- 
closes the  future  inner  life  of  the  man.  If  the  child  is 
injured  at  this  period,  if  the  germinal  leaves  of  the 
future  tree  of  his  life  are  marred  at  this  time,  he  will 
only  with  the  greatest  difficulty  and  the  utmost  effort 
grow  into  strong  manhood." 

More  recent  study  and  observation  have  served  only 
to  emphasize  these  utterances  and  to  show  in  detail 
their  truth.  Spencer  tells  us  that  all  education,  so  far 
as  it  is  true,  tends  to  revert  to  play,  and  Preyer  com- 
pares the  child's  play,  in  its  value  to  him,  to  the  work 
of  the  learned  man. 

The  distinction  between  play  and  work  is  a  difficult 
one  to  draw.  It  is  evidently  not  merely  in  the  acts, 
nor  in  their  result;  to  Tom  Sawyer,  white- 
washing the  fence  was  the  hardest  sort  w^rk^'^'* 
of  drudgery,  but  he  made  it  into  play  for  his 
boy  friends  and  made  them  pay  hitii  for  the  privilege 
of  playing  at  it.  Again,  if  a  boy  has  to  play  marbles 
when  he  wants  to  go  to  a  fire,  the  play  becomes  work. 
We  often  say  that  if  we  had  to  do  as  work  what  we 
play  at — camping  out,  making  century  runs,  etc.,  we 
should  consider  ourselves  much  abused.  It  is  not 
alone  the  amount  of  effort,  therefore,  or  the  fact  of 
having  a  definite  end,  that  makes  an  activity  work 
instead  of  play.  It  seems  to  be  rather  that  the  activity 
is    pleasurable    and    spontaneous;     that    there    is    no 


;t/> 


THE   CHILD 


external  or  internal  compulsion  laid  upon  the  player. 
Play  in  this  sense  includes  all  truly  artistic  work.  It 
is  not  the  opposite  of  work  but  the  best  way  of  doing 
work.  It  is  working  in  the  spirit  of  love,  instead  of  in 
the  spirit  of  duty.  And  yet  we  distinguish  such  work 
from  play  in  that  it  docs,  after  all,  go  beyond  itself  in 
the  artist's  appreciation  of  the  ethical  and  social  value 
of  his  art. 

Shut  out  play  from  work,  and  we  get  weariness  and 
stupidity,  we  exclude  growth,  physical,  intellectual 
and  moral.  The  child  who  does  not  like  play  is 
abnormal.  He  is  sick  or  stupid.  He  ought  not  to 
prefer  to  sit  in  his  seat  when  the  others  are  romping. 
Such  a  child  is  very  likely  to  exhibit  some  of  the  signs 
of  nervousness  described  in  the  first  chapter,  or  signs 
of  poor  nutrition — either  not  enough  food  or  else  not 
the  right  kind.  A  distinction  should  also  be  made 
between  games  and  play.  All  games  are  play,  but  not 
all  plays  are  games.  Games  are  organized,  system- 
atized play,  and  involve  more  than  one  child. 

Groos  in  his  theory  of  play,  considers  the  physi- 
Theoryof  ological,  biological  and  psychological  fac- 
Piay.  tors,  in  order  to  get  a  complete  theory. 

There  are  two  principles  to  which  we  must  refer  for 
a  physiological  theory  of  play,  viz.,  the  discharge  of 

_  surplus   energy   and    the   recreation  of  ex- 

ioiogicai  hausted     powers.       The    first    is    likely    to 

standpoint,  ^^^-^.^jp  ^vhen,  through  rest  or  disuse,  any  set 
of  organs  has  stored  up  more  force  than  it  needs,  which 
force,  therefore,  tends  to  find  an  outlet  in  any  con- 
venient direction.  The  second  happens  when  we  are 
tired  of  mental  or  physical  labor,  but  still  do  not  need 
rest,  and  so  turn  to  the  change  and  recreation  given  by 


PLAY 


397 


play.  In  both  cases,  a  play  so  begun  may  be  carried 
to  the  point  of  exhaustion,  because  any  movement  set 
up  in  the  body  tends  to  repeat  itself  and  to  produce  a 
trance-like  condition  which  is  irresistible. 

The  first  overflow  of  energy  is  illustrated  in  the 
activity  of  a  little  child  in  the  morning,  when  he  jumps, 
skips,  etc.,  from  good  spirits;  the  recreation,  in  his 
later  conduct,  when  he  turns  from  one  play  to  another. 
In  both  cases,  he  may  continue  until  he  is  tired  out. 

Such  a  theory  is  satisfactory  for  certain  forms  ol 
play,  but  it  leaves  untouched  the  question  of  why  the 
surplus  energy  and  recreation  take  the  particular 
forms  that  they  do,  and  must  therefore  be  supple- 
mented from  the  biological  standpoint. 

We  do  not  find  the  play  instinct  in  animals  that  have 
to  support  themselves  from  birth.  It  develops  in 
proportion  as  the  animal  is  freed  from  the  g  The  bio- 
serious  duties  of  life.  The  highly-devel-  logical 
oped  animals  are  the  most  unfit  to  provide  ^**"  ^°  °^  ' 
for  themselves  at  birth,  are  the  most  plastic  or  educa- 
ble,  and  require  the  longest  period  of  infancy  or  care- 
taking.  These  animals  are  also  the  most  playful.  We 
do  not  think  of  an  oyster,  and  hardly  of  a  chick  as 
playing.  But  colts,  puppies,  kittens,  are  all  playful, 
while  the  child  is  the  player  par  excellence,  and  play 
is  a  large  part  of  his  training  for  life. 

The  superfluous  energy  and  the  desire  tor  recreation 
find  the  easiest  outlets  through  the  channels  of  instincts, 
:ind  thus  not  only  recapitulate  race  experience,  but 
serve  the  useful  function  of  being  an  important  form 
of  organic  exercise.  It  seems  to  be  true  that  the 
spontaneous  actions  of  play  are  the  same  as  those 
which  the  child  will  need   later  to  use  seriously.     We 


3gS 


THE   CHILD 


fiiul  j)la\'s  varyinj^  in  different  species  of  animals, 
according  to  their  instincts.  Thus  a  puppy  plays 
vigorously  at  biting,  fighting,  etc.,  in  his  way,  and  so  is 
trained  for  actual  fighting  later.  A  kitten  plays  very 
differentl)'  from  a  J^upp}',  hut  its  [)lay  serves  equally 
well  to  prepare  it  for  its  life.  Children  in  like  man- 
ner play  according  to  the  way  their  ancestors  have 
acted.  The  channels  worn  by  ages  of  use  are  the 
easiest  ones  through  which  superfluous  energy  can 
escape,  and  so  both  the  spontaneous  and  the  imitative 
tendencies  tend  to  the  reproduction  of  racial  activities, 
hunting  of  animals,  sham  fights,  and  so  on.  The 
believers  in  the  culture-epoch  theory  put  here  also  the 
plays  of  tent  life,  ca\'e  life,  pastoral  lift',  which  most 
children  go  through  at  some  time.  Some  of  the  games 
based  on  the  hunting  instinct  are  games  of  chase,  like 
tag;  games  of  searching,  like  hide-and-seek;  games  of 
hurling,  like  quoits.  Based  on  the  fighting  instinct  are 
games  of  contest,  like  football;  and  all  that  bring  out 
emulation,  like  racing. 

The  element  of  imitation  doubtless  enters  into  all 
these  plays,  but  unless  they  appealed  to  some  natural 
tendencies  they  would  not  Ix'  imitaled.  In  the  various 
kindergarten  plays  we  find  an  attenn)t  to  make  this 
tendency  regularly  serviceable  in  education. 

Now  all  these  plays  which  thus  reiM'oduce  race  activi- 
ties are  of  value  also  because  they  provide  a  large 
amount  of  exercise  for  the  child,  and  so  aid  greatly  in 
bodily  control.  As  they  reproduce  adult  activities, 
however  crudely,  they  train  the  muscles  for  those 
activities.  The  girl  in  her  playhouse  is  learning  how 
to  handle  the  household  uh'nsils  carefully.  The  boy 
in  his  baseball  and  running  games  gains  a  fleetness  and 


PLAY  399 

readiness  that  arc  serviceable  in  all  but  the  most 
sedentary  occupations.  There  is  no  part  of  the  body 
left  undeveloped  by  the  plays  of  children.  Ordinarily 
also,  this  exercise  can  be  secured  in  no  other  way. 
Gymnastics  are  not  comparable  with  free  play,  for  they 
exercise  only  certain  sets  of  muscles  and  the  same  sets 
for  all  children,  whereas  free  play  allows  each  child  to 
exercise  the  least  used  muscles,  and  also  relieves  the 
strain  of  attention.  Further,  because  children  do  not 
enjoy  gymnastics  especially,  they  do  them  only  under 
direction,  and  do  not  get  as  much  exercise  as  from  free 
play.  Gymnastics  are,  of  course,  valuable  when  chil- 
dren do  not  get  plays  that  exercise  all  the  muscles,  or 
when  they  are  deformed  or  developed  unsymmetri- 
cally;  but,  says  one  writer,  the  finest  type  of  physical 
man  is  not  produced  by  the  gymnasia  or  the  palaestra, 
but  by  games — rowing  and  running,  football  and  base- 
ball, golf,  tennis,  etc.  The  movement  for  playgrounds 
in  the  city  thus  assumes  as  great  an  importance  as  the 
securing  of  gymnasia,  especially  because  the  children 
do  not  get  any  of  the  natural  opportunities  for  exercise 
either  in  work  or  in  play  that  the  country  and  village 
children  get. 

When  we  approach  the  question  of  the  mental  state 
of  the  playing  child,  one  of  the  most  prominent  factors 
is  his  acceptance  of  an  illusion,  his  playing  3  The  psy- 
of  a  part.  The  girl  who  makes  a  doll  out  choiogicai 
of  a  sofa-pillow  and  the  boy  who  plays  sol-  ^  ^°  ^°^°^  ' 
dier,  know  that  they  are  "making  believe,"  and  yet 
accept  the  pretense  with  delight.  Lange  calls  it  a 
conscious  self-deception,  in  which  a  period  of  illusion 
follows  a  moment  of  readjustment.  The  combination 
of  the  two  is  seen  in  laughing  boys  in  a  sham  fight. 

26 


400 


THE   CHILD 


Groos  believes  that  the  delight  in  the  illusion  is  due 
to  the  feeling  of  freedom  in  accepting  the  illusion  and 
joy  in  being  the  cause  of  it.  The  child  is  guarded 
from  error  by  the  subconsciousness  that  he  himself 
created  the  thing,  and  s.o  plays  joyously  with  it  as  if  it 
were  a  reality.  Such  plays  pass  by  slow  transitions 
into  artistic  creation  and  invention,  in  which  the  sense 
of  unreality  is  replaced  by  belief  in  their  truth  and 
their  social  vahie. 

Much  of  what  is  called  play  in  babies  anu  little 
children  is  rather  an  experimenting  with  the  senses 
First  Diav  an  '^'^*^'  motor  apparativs  for  the  sake  of  the 
experiment-  new  feelings  thus  produced.  Such  plays 
^°^'  are    based    directly    upon     the    instinctive 

demand  of  these  organs  for  activit}'-,  and  are  lacking  in 
the  factor  of  illusion  which  \\c.  ha\'e  just  mentioned. 
They  serve  the  biological  purpose  already  mentioned. 
Numerous  illustrations  of  this  might  be  given  from 
every  sense.. 

1.  ToiicJi.  Very  early  in  life  a  baby  enjoys  stroking, 
and  seeks  to  put  everything  into  his  mouth.  The  lat- 
ter is  done  not  only  when  the:  child  is  hungr\' but  when 
he  has  just  been  fed,  and  is  (•njo\-e(l  for  the  contact 
with  the  lips,  tongue,  c;tc.  In  the  bath,  he  gets 
various  sensations  by  splashing.  The  baby  explores 
his  body,  handles  all  he  can  riMch,  and  in  every  way 
plays  with  the  touch  sensations. 

2.  Temperature.  The  seeking  of  a  stinging  air,  a 
cool  breeze,  a  hot  sun,  not  so  much  to  relieve  any 
discomfort  as  to  enjoy  them,  are  instances  of  play 
here. 

3.  Taste.  The  love  of  having ,  something  in  the 
mouth — candy,  gum,  a  clove,  an  olive  stone,  tobacco — 


PLAY 


401 


testifies  to  the  playful  use  we  all  make  of  touch. 
Even  a  stone  or  a  tasteless  bit  of  beeswax  satisfies 
some  people  when  they  can  get  nothing  better.  The 
intention  in  such  cases  is  not,  of  course,  to  satisfy 
hunger,  but  simply  to  get  new  sensations. 

4.  Smell.  We  do  not  find  play  so  much  in  evidence 
here,  although  sometimes  children  do  play  games  that 
call  into  use  the  sense  of  smell. 

5.  Hearing.  We  spoke  at  some  length  of  hearing, 
under  the  head  of  music.  Here  we  have  only  to  note 
that  these  first  sounds  that  are  heard  and  produced 
with  so  much  pleasure,  are  to  the  child  a  form  of  play. 
lie  listens  and  reproduces,  makes  up  rhymes,  and 
repeats  his  chain  rhymes,  Mother  Goose,  and  so  on,  in 
a  spontaneous  enjoyment  that  asks  for  nothing  more. 
He  is  not  limited  to  his  own  voice,  but  rattles  and 
shakes  and  tears  anything  that  he  can  get  hold  of,  to 
satisfy  his  insatiable  ear. 

6.  Light.  The  same  is  true  of  sight.  Whether  it 
is  merely  the  enjoyment  of  brightness  and  color,  or 
the  more  complex  delight  in  forms  and  in  objects, 
a  child  is  constantly  seeking  to  produce  a  new  expe- 
rience or  to  repeat  a  pleasurable  old  one, 

7.  Playful  movements  of  the  bodily  orga?is.  All  this 
play  with  the  senses  involves  movement,  but  we  find 
the  child  also  experimenting  in  all  sorts  of  ways  with 
his  hands  and  legs  and  head, 'putting  them  into  all 
sorts  of  positions  and  enjoying  himself  immensely.  In 
course  of  time  he  learns  to  run  and  walk,  and  then  we 
can  see  plainly  his  play  in  jumping,  stamping,  rowing, 
taking  difificult  steps,  climbing  and  giving  himself  a 
thousand  tests  of  skill.  He  does  not  limit  himself  to 
his  own  body,  either,  but  takes  possession  of  anything 


402 


THE    CHILD 


iij)()n  which  he  can  exercise  his  muscles.  He  tears 
paper,  shakes  keys  and  all  noisy  objects,  splashes 
water,  and  so  on 

Considerable    observation    has   been    made    of    chil- 
dren's  free   play  with   a  view  to  seeinj,^  just  what   they 
do   when    left   alone.       Many    nationalities 

Favor   e  ^^^^^  classes   have  been  observed    with   the 

plays. 

intc-rt'sting  result  that  children  of  the  same 

age,  whatever   their   nationality,   or  social   class,   play 

essentially   the   same   y^ames   and   plays.      The   names 

may  differ,  but  certain   characteristics  are  common  to 

all.     As  we  should   expect,  the  plays  of  little  children 

of  the  kinderj^arten  age  are  much  more   imitative  than 

those  of  older  children.     Playing  family  and   store  are 

by  far  the  most  popular  both  with  girls  and  boys,  and 

in  these  plays  the  home  life  is  reproduced,  often  with 

startling    fidelity.       Playing    church     comes     next    to 

these,  but  it  is  played  only  about  one-third  as  much  as 

the  others. 

In  observations  made  on  twenty-nine  kindergarten 
children,  five  to  six  years  old,  it  was  found  that  in  their 
plays  they  divided  spontaneously  into  four  groups. 
The  first  group  consisted  of  the  older  boys.  Their 
plays  contained  much  action  and  imagination.  In 
three  months  thirty-one  dramatic  plays  were  observed, 
such  as  policeman,  fireman,  store. 

The  second  group  was  made  up  of  the  older  girls. 
Their  plays  were  also  dramatic,  but  quieter  than  the 
boys.  Playing  house  and  school  were  the  great 
favorites. 

The  third  consisted  of  the  smaller  children  and 
older  bashful  girls.  They  played  simple  games,  but 
spent  most  of  their  tiuK^    in    rushing  from   one  to  the 


PLAY  403 

other  of  the  other  groups  as  they  were  attracted  by  the 
games  going  on. 

The  fourth  group  consisted  of  the  left-overs,  list- 
less children,  who  did  not  seem  to  care  for  any  game, 
and  spent  most  of  their  time  in  the  swing. 

All  these  plays  are  imitative  rather  than  inventive. 
It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  usually  the  same  play  is 
played  on  consecutive  days,  the  interest  shifting  only 
by  degrees.  Thus,  if  house  is  played  on  one  day,  it  is 
likely  to  be  played  for  a  while  the  next  day.  That 
day  another  game  may  be  introduced  also,  and  this 
will  be  likely  to  survive  the  next  day  and  so  on.  Some 
plays  are  played  almost  every  day,  but  what  shifting 
there  is,  is  of  this  gradual  nature. 

The  particular  play  chosen  seemed  to  be  selected 
either  because  the  children  liked  it  very  much,  or 
because  some  child  of  strong  personality  forced  his 
liking  upon  the  others  even  if  they  did  not  care  for  the 
play.  The  latter  was  not  at  all  an  uncommon  occur- 
rence. 

Children  below  seven  years  of  age  rarely  play  games 
unless    stimulated    by    older    children    or    by    adults. 
Their    plays   are   individualistic    and    non- 
competitive.    The  question  has  been  raised  Character  of 
^  ^  ,       1  •      1  plays  of  little 

seriously,  therefore,  whether  the  kmdergar-  cMidren. 
ten  should  force  cooperation  upon  its  chil- 
dren; whether  it  is  not  urging  them  into  a  stage  which 
they  are  not  yet  ready  for.  Froebel  himself,  it  is 
urged,  says  that  boyhood,  rather  than  childhood,  is 
the  time  when  the  unity  with  others  comes  to  con- 
sciousness, and  that  childhood  is  the  time  for  learn- 
ing to  perceive  things  as  distinct.  The  feeling  of 
unity  is  vague    and    the  tendency  is  toward  defining 


^04.  "^"^    CHILD 

perccjits  and  ideas,  making  tliLin  distinct  rather  than 

related. 

The  kindergarten  period  up  to  the  second  dentition 

is  especially  the  toy  period.     The  plays  usually  center 

about   some   object   upon    which    numerous 

Play  with        imnfTininGTS    can     be     basrd,    the    doll,    the 

toys.  1-.        fc>  _  ,1  •   1 

engine,  etc.      But   it  is   not  at  all   essential 

that  the   toy  should   be  an   elaborate   one.     It  is  better 

for  a  child  to  be  supplied  with  plenty  of  material,  such 

as  blocks  and   sand,  from   which  he  can  make  many 

things,    and    with    some    simple    toys,    than     to    have 

expensive  mechanisms  which   he  can  not  shape  to  his 

will.      He  ought  to  be  able   to  take   any  toy  to  pieces 

and  put  it  together  again  without  injury  to  it. 

Almost  anything  will  serve  a  child  for  a  toy,  when 
he  is  left  to  his  own  inventions — flowers  and  leaves, 
twigs,  berries,  grass,  bits  of  glass  and  china,  iron, 
cloth,  etc.— anything  that  will  serve  as  a  peg  for  his 
fancy. 

It  is  noticeable,  however,  that  when  children  make 
toys,  they  usually  only  copy — making  sleds,  hammers, 
axes,  etc. 

The  universal  toy  is,  of  course,  the  doll,  upon  which 
both  the  in\ention  and  imitation  of  the  child  expend 
themselves  to  the  utmost.  We  find  from 
Dr.  Hall's  article  that  children  prefer  dolls 
of  certain  materials,  thus:  wax,  22  per  cent;  paper,  19 
per  cent;  china,  18  per  cent;  rag,  17, per  cent;  bisque, 
12  per  cent;  china  and  cloth,  gyi  per  cent;  rubber,  8 
per  cent.  But  lacking  these,  they  substitute:  pillows, 
4%  per  cent;  sticks,  3  per  cent;  bottles,  2%  per  cent; 
dogs,  2  per  cent;  cats  or  kittens,  i><^  per  cent;  shawls, 
2>4  per  cent;    flowers,  l  per  cent;    clothes-pins,  i    per 


PLAV  405 

cent,  to  say  nothing  of  such  things  as  toy  washboards 
or  wringers  in  isolated  cases. 

Any  size  from  4  to  12  inches  suits,  but  blondes  with 
curly  hair  and  eyes  that  open  and  shut  are  preferred. 
Babies  are  liked  best  before  five  years,  and  children 
after  that  time. 

The  mental  (jualities  that  are  attributed  to  these  first 
children  are  as  varied  as  the  human  nature  that  the 
child  knows.  It  is  an  interesting  question  how  far  a 
child  really  believes  that  the  doll  can  feel,  be  good, 
jealous,  and  so  on,  and  how  far  he  is  conscious  of  its 
lifelessness.  In  feeding  a  doll,  for  instance,  \]4.  per 
cent  maintain  that  the  doll  really  is  hungry  and  the 
same  number  are  in  doubt;  2  per  cent  declare  that  the 
doll  never  is  hungry  while  the  great  majority  either 
feed  the  doll  or  touch  the  food  to  her  mouth  and  then 
eat  it  themselves.  In  such  cases  there  is  a  conscious- 
ness of  the  play,  although  a  child  may  be  really  dis- 
tressed over  the  doll's  cold  or  sickness. 

Among  the  qualities  ascribed  to  dolls  the  most  com- 
mon are:  goodness,  27  per  cent;  cold,  24  per  cent; 
inability  to  love,  22  per  cent;  weariness,  21  per  cent; 
hunger,  21  per  cent;  badness,  16  per  cent;  jealousy,  8>^ 
per  cent;  hatred,  7  per  cent;  ability  to  sleep,  37  per  cent. 

The  love  of  dolls  appears  to  reach  its  height  in 
the  ninth  year  although  strong  from  the  third  year 
to  the  twelfth.  Many  girls  play  with  dolls  until  they 
go  into  long  dresses  and  are  ridiculed  for  their  love  of 
it;  and  not  a  few  ladies  confess  to  the  existence  of  the 
passion.  Dr,  Ilall  questions  whether  this'  love  is  as 
closely  connected  with  the  maternal  instinct  as  we 
commonly  suppose,  citing  in  proof  of  his  statement  the 
fact  that  many  girls  who  were  very  fond  of  dolls,  do 


.Q^  THE   CHILD 

not,  as  women,  care  much  for  children,  and  vice  versa. 
This  may  be  true  in  isolated  cases,  but  still  play  is  so 
evidently  an  imitation  of  the  mother,  prompted  by 
instinct,  that  we  must  have  more  than  a  few  contrary 
instances  to  invalidate  this  belief. 

During  the  second  dentition,  when  the  association- 
fibers  of  the  brain  are  developing  rapidly,  the  plays  of 

children   undergo  as  marked   a  change  as 
Plays  of  .    .  .         ,         ^,  .     2 

older  chii-       their  other  activities  do.      ihere   is  first  a 

dren.  period   of  dramatic   play,  which   serves   to 

connect  the  toy  period  with  the  next,  and  then  the 
plays  involve  much  violent  exercise  and  become  highly 
competitive  in  character  and  much  more  varied.  Hide- 
and-seek,  is  played  by  only  8  per  cent  of  boys  seven 
years  old  and  by  55  per  cent  of  boys  ten  years  old. 

The  interest  in  traditional  games— hide-and-seek, 
tag,  prisoner's  base,  fox  and  hounds,  etc.  — most  of 
which  involve  violent  exercise  and  competition,  reaches 
its  height  in  the  tenth  year.  This  is  also  the  period 
when  the  love  of  animals  and  the  desire  to  possess 
them  are  most  prominent.  If  it  is  feasible,  this  desire 
should  be  gratified  and  the  child  taught  to  take  the 
responsibility  of  feeding  them.  Such  a  care  is  a  valu- 
able training  in  kindness  and  unselfishness,  and  teaches 
a  child  to  estimate  more  correctly  the  kindness  of  his 
parents  in  taking  care  of  him. 

Certain  differences  between  boys  and  girls  appear  in 

the  ten   thousand  children  observed.     As  a  rule,  the 

girls'   games   are  quieter   than    the   boys'. 

Boys'  and  They  play  a  greater  variety  of  games,  and 
girls' plays.       ,      -^  :      ^  .  .-       .  1  rr      ^ 

they  do  not  organize  as  the  boys  do.  root- 
ball  and  baseball  are  overwhelmingly  the  favor- 
ites with    boys,   while  with    girls   no  one    game    has 


PLAY 


407 


anythinf^  like  that  popularity.  Again,  no  girls  took 
part  in  the  play  with  the  sandpile,  except  occasion- 
ally, antl  they  do  not  organize  societies  as  boys  do. 

The  following  tables  show  the  relative  prominence 
of  games  and  of  clubs  at  different  ages.  The  names  at 
the  top  indicate  the  authority  for  the  figures  given. 
Percentages  are  given  in  all  cases.  The  two  figures 
indicate  the  per  cents  at  the  two  age  limits. 


Playing  House. . . . 

Playing  School. .  . . 

Playing  Horse 

Playing  War 

Play  with  dolls. .  . 
With  doll  furniture 

With  teaset 

With  doll  carriage 

With  leaves 

With  flowers 

Books  and  reading 

Music 

Cards 

Checkers 

Dominoes 

Hide-and-seek.,  -j 

Ball 

Baseball 

Running  games. .  . 

Fox  -  hounds,  foot- 
ball, tag,  etc. . . . 

Games  of  rivalry .  . 

Games  with  coop- 
eration   

Croquet 

Rhythm  and  mo- 
tion   


T.  R.  Croswell. 
1000  boys, 
1000  girls. 

Kindergarten- 
High  school 


Boys 

Gids 

6-5 

36^ 
5l 

7-,'o 

25-3 

16-2 

4-v'o- 

5i-i=^ 

^,\l 

4-^ 

26-23 

3 
Iff 

8-/0 

0 

24-7 

i 

23-8 

7H 

II-? 

3-A- 

10- A 

S-/n 

11-2 

2-^ 

6-1 

16-3 

15-5 

27-8 

18-3 

18-4 

13-2 

8  at 

7y- 

55  at 

10  y. 

12-2S 

5-4 

Z.  McGhee. 

4566  children. 

6-18  years 


Boys    Girls  Both 


12-3 


2-9 


31-21 

42-65 
25-41 


31-1 


3-45 


20-70 
10-10 


W.  S.  Monroe. 

2000  children. 

7-16  years 


Boys    Girls  Both 


40 

65 
70 

Foot- 
ball 
32 


20 

27 


60 

35 


Tag 

50 


44 

73 


31 


4o8 


THE   CHILD 


Anglo-Saxon  Boys'  Plays 
(  Neuro-Muscular. ) 


Birth 


icking. 
Whole  arm,  body 
and  hand  movements. 
Dropping  things.     Blocks. 
Sand  Plays,  digging,  piling,  etc. 
uuning,  throwing,  cutting  and  fold- 
ing.    Swinging. 

Shooting,  guns,  bows,  slings,  etc. 
Knife  work.  Tools  of  increasing 
complexity. 


Machinery. 
Sailing. 
Rowing. 

Swimming. 


Cross  tag. 
Word  tag. 
Prisoner's 

base. 

Hide  and 

seek. 

Black  man. 


Gymnastics. 
Indian  Clubs 
etc. 


Ball 
games. 
One  old  cat. 
Throwing-. 
Duck  on       Fungo. 
a  rock.         Rounders, 
ap  frog.  ^^'^• 

■ackand  Garble  games.  "Stunts," 
^ueld  Sports.      ^^t,  cints,   hole,  etc. 
oot-ball  games.     Care  of 
laud  and  animals.     ^^^^     Baseball, 
unting,  fishing.        ^T  Basket-ball. 

War.     Wrestling,    ^r    Cricket. 
Boxing,  fencing.      X  Hockey. 

Predatory.  /  Gangs. 

Billiards.  i  Houses  in  woods. 

Bowling.  /  Pals, 

Predatory  gangs. 
Hero  service. 


DiAfiKAM  15.     Luther  Gulick's  Table  Siiowinc.  the  Aspects  of  Group  Games 
IN  Boys  From  Seven  to  Eighteen  Years  of  Age. 


(Used  by  permission  of  the  Pedagogical  Seminar/.) 


PLAY 

Cn'iis* 


409 


Secret  Societies: 

Girls 

Boys 

Predatory: 

THE       Girls. 

GANG    Boys. 
Social  Clubs: 

Girls 

Boys 

Industrial : 

Girls 

Boys 

Philanthropic: 

Girls 

Boys , 

Lit,  Art: 

Girls 

Musical : 

Boys 

Athletic: 

Girls 

Boys 


8yrs. 

II  yrs. 

12  yrs. 

13  yrs. 

17  yrs. 

3 

iS 

0 

0 

3 

0 

4 
4 

0 

0 

0 

31 

0 

22 

0 

0 

7 

0 

5 

54 

I 

0 

II 

2 

0 

I 

0 

6 

I 

15 

0 

4 

I 

15 

78 

7 

Total 


67 
23 

25 
III 

104 

2S 
187 

59 

22 
II 

65 

28 

69 
406 


The  psychological  value  of  play  has  already  been 
touched  upon  in  the  theory  of  play,  and  so  we  will 
emphasize  here  only  its  especial  importance  psvciioioei- 
for  nervous  children.  Wisely  directed  play  cai  value  of 
can  often  be  made  a  cure  for  hysteria,  ^  ^^' 
chorea,  stuttering,  and  other  such  nervous  diseases, 
where  development  of  the  muscular  control,  such  as 
can  be  gained  in  play,  is  a  desideratum. 

In  the  cities  also,  where  children  do  not  naturall)'  get 
the  exercise  that  a  country  or  a  village  child  gets,  it  is 
imperative  that  the  exercise  should  be  obtained 
through  play,  not  only  because  the  body  is  so  devel- 
oped, but  especially  because,  as  we  have  already  seen, 

*The  table  is  given  in  per  cents;  the  totals  in  absolute  numbers 


,  jQ  THE  CHILD 

the   hif^hcst   mental    and   moral  \irtues   can   not   easily 

flourish  where  the  body  is  dwarfed. 

Play  is  an   important   method  of  realizing  the  social 

instincts    and    at   this   point   wc   run    across    imitation 

again.     Animals   in    their   plaN'   imitate  the 

Social  value    q\^^[^^  Q^^^.^   in   their   hunting   and    fighting, 
of  play.  "      . 

carrying  it  to  great  lengths  at  times. 

Children  in  their  play  with  each  other  have  a  must 

important  aid  to  social  develoi^ment. 

1.  They  gain  flexibility  of  mind  and  self-control. 
Plays  quicken  the  various  mental  processes.  Some 
cultivate  perception,  close  observation;  others,  imagi- 
nation;   others   require  quick   and   accurate  judgment, 

■  and  so  on.  Many  cultivate  all  of  these  to  a  marked 
extent.  Self-control  is  given  by  all  games  to  a  certain 
extent,  for  a  child  learns  to  meet  failure  with  equanim- 
ity, but  competitive  games  especially  cultivate  this. 
In  all  cases  where  the  play  is  not  too  intense,  the 
whole  emotional  nature  is  gladdened  and  made 
buoyant.  "Play  is  the  recruiting  ofifice  and  drill 
sergeant  of  all  the  powers  of  the  child." 

2.  They  have  endless  opportunities  for  imitation 
and  in\'ention. 

The  children  in  any  group  always  divide  into  two 
classes — the  leaders  and  the  led,  the  relatively  inven- 
tive and  the  relatively  imitative,  but  there  is  more  or 
less  changing  of  parts  here.  The  imitative  child  may 
come  to  school  with  a  new  or  taking  trick,  and  thus 
become  the  leader  temporarily.  In  both  cases,  each 
child  learns  his  own  powers  and  those  of  the  others  as 
compared  with  him.  Me  gets  a  certain  place  in  the 
group,  which  he  can  change  if  he  can  develop  the 
necessary  (pialities.      lie  finds  the  value  of  cooperation 


PLAY  411 

in  all  the  games  where  sides  are  taken,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  \alue  of  individuality  and  originality  if  one 
has  ambitions  to  be  a  leader.  Baldwin  says:  "To 
exhibit  what  I  can  do  alone  is  to  exhibit  my  impor- 
tance as  an  ally.  The  sense  of  my  weakness  in 
myself  is  a  revelation  to  me  of  my  need  of  you  as 
an  ally.  The  presence  of  a  stronger  than  either 
is  a  direct  incitement  to  quick  alliance  between 
you  and  me  against  him.  And  the  victory  gained 
by  the  alliance  is  both  a  confirmation  to  us  of  the 
utility  of  social  cooperation  and  a  convincing  proof 
to  him  that  society  is  stronger  than  the  individual. 
The  spirit  of  union,  the  sense  of  social  depend- 
ence as  set  over  against  the  spirit  of  private  intoler- 
ance; the  habit  of  suspensi(Mi  of  private  utilities  for 
the  larger  social  good;  the  willingness  to  recognize 
and  respond  to  the  leadership  of  the  more  competent 
— all  this  grows  grandly  on  the  play-ground  of  every 
school." 

The  classical  example  of  the  social  value  of  play  at 
its  best  is  given  in  the   "Story  of  a  Sandpile. "     The 
story  began  when  two  boys,  three  and  five 
years  old,  had  a  pile  of  sand  to  play  in,  and  asandpiiJ" 
extended   over  nine  years,  the  play  being 
resumed  each   summer.      The   first   two  summers   the 
play   was    of  a  desultory  character,    digging,   making 
things  that  were  soon   destroyed,  and   so  on;    but  by 
degrees  it  assumed  an  organized  character,  children  of 
the  neighborhood  were  drawn  in,  and  a   miniature  vil- 
lage was  made.     The  village  was   laid   out   in   streets; 
houses,  barns,  and   other  buildings  were  whittled  out, 
as  were  also  people  and  animals.      Gradually  a  govern- 
ment was  evolved,  each   boy  expressing  the  opinions 


j^  J  />  THE  CHILD 

and  doing  the  work  of  the  doll-men  who  occupied  his 
section  of  the  village.  Courts  were  established,  town 
meetings  were  held,  and  all  the  business  of  a  town 
transacted,  although,  of  course,  crudely.  The  village 
became  an  excellent  training  school  in  good  citizen- 
ship. • 

The  play  was  carried  on  only  in  the  summer,  but 
while  in  their  city  homes  through  the  winter,  the  boys 
would  make  new  men  and  implements  and  get  all  the  . 
mechanism  of  the  town  ready  for  the  next  sumuKr. 
They  had  set  forms  for  their  men,  houses,  etc.,  from 
which  they  rarely  deviated,  although  as  they  grew 
older  they  saw  the  crudity  of  them.  As  the  boys 
reached  adolescence,  they  began  to  lose  interest  in  the 
village,  they  became  conscious  of  the  observation  of 
their  play,  and  gradually  the  village  became  once 
more  only  a  sand  pile,  having  served  fully  its  educa- 
tional function. 

It  seems  hardly  possible,  in  view  of  all  these  facts, 
to  overestimate  the  value  of  play,  and  here,  as  in  so 
many  other  cases,  we  see  again  the  importance  of 
education  following  the  leading  of  the  child. 

In  conclusion,  then,  we  may  say  that  from  the  very 
earliest  time,  play  has  been  recognized  as  a  valuable 
means  of  education,  and  that  to-day  it  is  used  sys- 
tematically in  many  schools  to  develop  the  child  when 
the  appliances  of  formal  education  fail. 

Theoretically,  play  includes  at  least  three  factors  — 

the  physiological,  the  biological,  and  the  psychological. 

To  the  first  we  mav  refer  those  plays  result- 
Conclusion.      .        ^  n  f  ^^ 

mg  from  an  ovirllow  oi    nervous  energy  or 

from  a  turning  of  the  energy  into  a  new  channel  for 

recreation;    to  the  second  we   refer  for  the  explanation 


PLAY 


41 


of  the  hereditary  form  which  play  so  commonly 
assumes;  and  to  the  third  for  the  understanding  of  the 
factor  of  voluntary  self  deception  which  appears  in 
many  games  and  plays. 

When  we  consider  the  character  of  the  plays,  we  see 
that  in  babyhood,  the  so-called  plays  are  in  truth  only 
experimenting  with  the  sense-organs  and  the  muscles. 
Children  between  three  and  seven  years,  play  dramatic 
plays,  but  all  are  imitative  and,  as  a  rule,  non-competi- 
tive. They  rarely  play  games.  This  period  is  the  one 
when  toys,  especially  the  doll,  are  loved. 

Between  nine  and  fourteen  years,  a  great  variety  of 
plays  appears;  the  interest  in  traditional  games  is 
strong;  all  games  become  highly  competitive  and 
involve  violent  exercise.  At  adolescence,  a  strong 
interest  in  clubs  appears,  which  endures  to  a  consider- 
able extent.  At  ail  ages  after  babyhood,  the  social 
value  of  play  is  great,  because  by  it  each  child  is  made 
to  see  his  dependence  upon  others  and  his  own  use  to 
them.  Through  it  he  is  educated  for  good  citizenship 
in  the  world  of  work. 

REFERENCES 

Atkins,  T.  B.     Out  of  the  Cradle  into  the  World. 

Blow,  Susan  E.     Symbclic  Education,  iii-n^S-     N.  Y.    Appleton, 

§1.50. 
Bolin,  Jakob.     Group   Contests.     Am.   Phys.    Educ.   Rev.,   Vol. 

LI  v.,  28S-294.     (Plea  for  making  all-round  athletes  instead 

of  specialists.) 
Bolton,  H.  C.     Counting-out    Rhymes   of   Children.      L.   Stock, 

S1.75.     (An  account  of  the  origin  of  counting-out  rhymes, 

and  a  list  of  them.) 
Bradley,  J.  E.     Relation  of  Play  to  Character.      Educ,  March, 

1S99. 
Brown,  T.  Y.     Boy's  Games.     Association  Outlook  (Springfield, 

Mass.),  February,  1899,  96-107. 


A^*  THE   CHILD 

Chamberlain,  A.  F.      T/u-  Child,  pp.  10-27.     W.  Scott. 
Champlin.  J.  D.,  and  Bostwick.  A.  E.      Youiii^  People's  Encyclo- 
pedia of  Games  and  Sporls.     N.  Y.     Molt,  $2.50. 
Compayre.   G.      Intellectual  and  Moral  Development    of   the 

Child.     Chapter  on  Play.     N.  Y.     Appleton,  $1.50. 
Croswell,  T.    R.      Amusements    of    Two    Thousand    Worcester 
School  Children.     Fed.  Sem.,  1S9S-99,    314-371-    (Very  full 
account.) 
Culin.     Street  Games  of  Brooklyn.     Am.  four.  Folic  Lore,  July 

to  September,  1891,  221-237. 
Felker,  Allie  M.     Play  as  a  Means  of  Idealizing.     Proc.  N.  E.  A., 

i8q8,  624-630. 
Forbush,  W.    B.      Social  Pedagogy  of  Babyhood.       Ped.   Sem., 
i<)oo,  307-235.     (Inspiring.) 

The  Boy  Problem.     Boston.     Pilgrim  Press,  $0.75. 
Froebel,  F.     p:ducation  of  Man.     See  Analytical  Index  on  Play. 

N.  Y.     Appleton,  §1.50. 
Gomme,  Alice  B.    Children's  Sini^ing  Games.    N.  Y.    Macmillan, 

$1.50.     (Pictures,  directions  and  music  for  the  games.) 
Groos,  Karl.      The  Play  of  Man.     N.  Y.    Appleton,  $1.50. 

The  Play  of  Animals.     N.  Y.    Appleton,  $1.75- 
Gulick,     Luther.       Psychological,     Pedagogical     and     Religious 
Aspect  of  Group  Games.     /V^/.  6'/v;/.,  iSgg,  135-15 1.     (Sug- 
-gestive.) 

Psychical  Aspects  of  Muscular  Exercise.    Pop.  Sc.  Mo.,  Octo- 
ber, 1898,  Vol.  LIII.,  705-793- 
Hall,  G.  S.     Dolls.     Ped.  Sem.,  1896,  129-175. 

Story  of  a  Sandpile.     Scribner' s  Mag.,  June,  1888. 
Howells,  W.  D.     A  Bofs  Town.     N.  Y.    Harper.  $1.25. 
Johnson,  G.  E.     Play  in  Physical  Education.     Proc.  N.  E.   A., 

iSq8,  948-954.     (Good.) 
Johnson,   G.   E.      Education  by  Plays  and  Games.     Ped.    Sem., 
1S94.     (Review  of  games  of  children  over  six  years,  with 
qualities  developed  by  each.     Good.) 
Johnson,  John.     Rudimentary-  Society  among  Boys.    John  Hop- 
kins  U.  Studies,  2d  Series,  Vol.   II.      Also  in  Overland^ 
Mo.,  October,  1883. 
McGhee,   Zach.      Play  Life  of  Some  South  Carolina  Children. 
ped.  Sem.,  December,  1900.     (Children  all  ages.     Good.) 


PLAY 


415 


McKee,  J.  H.      Developmental  Influences  of  Play.      Pediatrics, 

1899. 
Monroe,   W.   S.     Play  Interests  of  Children.     Proc.   N.  E.   A., 

1899,  1084-1090.     (Good,  but  limited  to  summer  plays.) 
Newell,    W.    W.      Games   atid  Songs   of   A)ncrican    Children. 
Pollock,  Susan  P.     Ideal  Play  in  the  Kindergarten.     Proc.  N.  E. 

A.,  1898,  604-60S. 
Poulsson,  Emilie.     From  Play  to  Earnest.    Kgti.    Rev.,  Vol.  IX., 

p.  687. 
Preyer,  W.     Senses  and  Intellect.     See  Index.     N.  Y.    Appleton, 

$1.50. 
Richter,  Jean  Paul.     Levana.     N.  Y.    Macmillan,  $r.oo. 
Sheldon,  H.   D.      Institutional  Activities  of  American  Children, 

Atn.  Jour,  of  Psy.,  Vol.  IX.,  425-448. 
Sisson,  Genevra.     Children's  Plays.     Barnes' s  Studies  in  Edu- 
cation.    Chicago.     University  of  Chicago  Press.     (Study  of 

29  kindergarten  children.     Good.) 
Stanley,   H.   M.      Evolutionary  Psychology  of  Peeling.      See 

Index.     N.  Y.    Macmillan,  $2.25. 
Stevenson,  R.  L.    Virginibus  Puerisque.     (Child's  Play.)  N.  Y. 

Scribner,  $1.25. 
Stoneroad,  Rebecca.     Gymnastic  Stories  and  Plays  for  Primafy 

Schools.     Boston.     Heath,  $0.75. 
Sully,   James.     Studies  of  Childhood.      (Imagination    in    Play.) 
N.  Y.    Appleton,  $2.50. 


27 


CHAPTER   XX 

Summary 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  estimate  in  a  roiitrh  way- 
how  much  has  been  accomplished  by  Child-Study  up 
to  the  present  time.  In  the  study  of  the  child's  body 
far  more  has  been  done  than  in  any  other  branch  of 
the  subject.  The  results,  however,  are  not,  on  the 
whole,  very  satisfactory,  for  while  thi;  rhythms  of 
growth  in  height  and  in  weight  are  well  established, 
both  for  the  whole  period  of  childhood  and  for  the 
shorter  periods  of  the  year,  season,  month  and  day, 
their  causes  and  their  connection  with  mental  develop- 
ment are  not  yet  clearly  understood.  The  most  that 
we  are  able  to  say  with  certainty  is  that  there  seems 
to  be  a  certain  average  height  for  each  member  of  a 
family  at  a  given  age,  which  his  body  will  endeavor  to 
attain  even  under  the  most  unfavorable  conditions,  but 
which  it  will  not  much  exceed  under  the  most  favor- 
able conditions.  If  growth  is  stunted  by  any  cause 
whatever,  it  has  some  effect  on  mental  growth,  but 
what  effect  is  not  definitely  known,  although  it  is  prob- 
ably true  that  periods  of  the  most  rai)id  increase  in 
weight  are  the  periods  when  the  mind  is  best  able  to 
work.  Growth  of  all  parts  of  the  body  is  far  more 
rapid  during  the  first  year  of  life  than  at  any  other 
time,  and  is  in  general  more  rapid  during  the  early 
years  than  the  later  ones.  Babyhood  and  childhood 
are  therefore  the  periods  when  education  has  the  most 
effect. 

416 


SUMMARY 


417 


When  the  child's  health  is  poor  or  his  bodily  condi- 
tion abnormal  in  any  way,  he  is  in  so  far  hindered  in 
his  mental  dev^elopment.  Fatigue  means  poor  atten- 
tion, poor  memory,  poor  reasoning  powers,  and  less- 
ened moral  sense,  as  well  as  lessened  powers  of 
observation.  It  may  be  brought  about  by  a  number  of 
causes  other  than  overwork.  Bad  air,  bad  lighting, 
and  uncomfortable  seats  in  the  schoolroom  are  potent 
factors  on  the  physical  side;  while  on  the  mental  side 
must  be  considered  overworry,  fear,  and  bad  habits  of 
study.  These  factors  are  probably  more  important  in 
producing  fatigue  under  our  present  school  conditions 
than  is  the  one  factor,  overwork. 

There  are,  however,  exceptional  children,  who  are 
not  able  to  do  the  normal  amount  of  work  on  account 
of  some  nervous  defect.  Such  children  need,  more 
than  others,  to  be  properly  fed  and  to  have  all  the  sur- 
roundings hygienic.  They,  more  than  others,  need 
careful  individual  study  in  order  that  we  may  enter 
into  their  mental  condition  and  save  them  from  the 
loneliness,  and  from  the  social  uselessness  or  the 
criminality  into  which  they  may  drift  if  left  to  develop 
their  abnormal  tendencies.  In  this  connection  we  can 
not  afford  to  ignore  the  dangers  to  which  we  expose 
children  by  leaving  them  ignorant  of  the  questions  of 
sex.  We  know  that  oftentimes  children  get  perverted 
ideas  and  learn  immorality,  when  they  might  have 
been  saved  by  a  little  timely  instruction. 

In  considering  the  growth  of  the  child's  mind  we 
first  took  up  sensation  and  perception.  At  birth  a 
baby's  senses  are  very  undeveloped.  He  does  not  dis- 
tinguish even  taste  with  any  accuracy;  he  is  deaf  at 
first  and  learns  to  distinguish  sounds  only  after  some 


4i8 


THE   CHILD 


months;  he  can  not  control  the  eyes  so  as  to  converge 
them  upon  one  object,  and  accommodation  is  not 
established,  so  that  he  sees  very  indistinctly. 

About  the  second  month,  however,  sight  becomes 
distinct,  and  thenceforward  the  baby  begins  to  study 
the  world  about  him.  At  first  it  is  principally  a  visual 
world,  and  he  exercises  himself  in  connecting  with 
each  other  the  various  things  that  he  sees,  so  as  to 
recognize  an  object  in  its  different  appearances. 
After  the  first  half  year  he  is  greatly  helped  in  this  by 
his  hands,  and  he  is  aided  from  the  beginning  by  the 
touch  sensations  obtained  from  putting  things  into  his 
mouth.  Through  the  combination  of  touch  and  sight 
he  thus  learns  the  world  of  objects  and  his  own  body. 

His  acquisitions  here  are  made  permanent  as  mem- 
ory arises,  and,  with  the  acquisition  of  memory,  come 
habits.  Fleeting  at  first,  enduring  hardly  for  an  hour 
in  the  second  month,  memory  persists  for  weeks  or 
months  before  the  end  of  the  first  year,  and  certain 
mem(,)ries  may  endure  for  life  after  the  third  or  fourth 
year.  Each  age  appears  to  have  its  characteristic  kind 
of  memory,  according  to  the  prominent  interest  of 
that  age,  and  even  where  no  interest  enters,  as  in 
learning  nonsense  lists,  there  are  certain  definite  laws 
under  which  the  mind  works  and  which  maybe  used  to 
advantage  in  teaching. 

When  a  child  has  become  somewhat  familiar  with 
the  world  about  him  and  has  stored  up  some  expe- 
riences in  memory,  we  find  that  he  begins  to  play  with 
these  experiences  and  memories,  to  make  new  combi- 
nations of  them  in  thought;  that  is,  to  imagine.  This 
becomes  prominent  about  the  third  year.  At  first  the 
play  is  carried  on  with  very  little  regard  to  the  actual 


SUMMARY 


419 


occurrences  in  the  outside  world.  The  child's  great 
ignorance  of  the  world,  of  what  is  possible  and  what 
is  impossible,  and  his  enjoyment  of  his  power  to  do 
what  he  will  with  his  images,  combine  to  produce  all 
sorts  of  grotesque  fancies  which  he  is  not  always  able 
to  distinguish  from  realities. 

But  as  perception  becomes  more  accurate,  and  as  he 
meets  with  unbelief  and  distrust  from  those  to  whom 
he  tells  his  fancies,  he  learns  to  create  and  to  invent  in 
a  manner  that  is  more  in  accordance  with  natural  law 
and  with  social  needs.  He  confines  himself  more  to 
changes  that  he  may  make  in  himself  and  his  sur- 
roundings, and  so  we  commonly  say  that  he  becomes 
less  imaginative.  This  is  not  strictly  true.  He  is  not 
less  imaginative,  but  he  orders  his  imagination  better. 
Finally,  in  most  children,  imagination  becomes  so 
subordinated  to  the  necessities  of  life  that  it  does  little 
more  than  enable  them  to  earn  their  living  in  the  way 
that  those  around  them  do.  Thought,  playing  freely  with 
its  images  in  artistic  creation,  is  put  into  a  strait-jacket 
by  the  customs  and  prejudices  which  refuse  to  accept 
new  ideas  and  starve  the  man  who  dares  to  have  them. 

As  imagination  becomes  more  subject  to  the  laws  of 
things,  it  becomes  closely  connected  with  reason. 
The  child's  memories  of  similar  experiences  connect 
themselves  together,  and  he  thus  gets  crude  ideas  of 
classes,  of  law,  and  of  number  and  time.  The  process 
in  such  cases  seems  to  consist  simply  in  this,  that  one 
factor  becomes  disengaged  from  the  others  because  it 
is  repeated  more  constantly  or  because  the  attention  is 
directed  to  it  especially.  The  recognition  of  cause 
and  effect  appears  in  the  beginning  to  be  only  a  mem- 
ory of  time  sequences,  especially  of  the  sequences  in 


THE  CHILD 


420 

the  movements  of  the  child's  own  body  and  the  effects 
of  those  movements.  As  images  become  more  firmly 
established,  the  child  learns  to  manipulate  them  so  as 
to  satisfy  certain  desires;  that  is,  he  learns  to  plan  and 
to  form  purposes.  He  adapts  means  to  ends.;  that  is, 
he  reasons.  His  first  adaptations  arc  as  crude  as  his 
first  imaginings,  and  go  through  the  same  process  of 
snubbing  and  alteration,  until,  with  maturity,  he  learns 
to  reason,  as  we  say,  correctly. 

The  child  employs  his  imagination  and  his  reason- 
ing powers  upon  all  the  subjects  which  come  into  his 
life,  as  we  have  seen,  but  there  are  two  especially 
important  groups  which  we  shall  now  consider: 
namely,  his  religious  and  his  moral  ideas.  His  first 
religious  ideas,  like  all  others,  are  derived  from  what 
he  sees  going  on  about  him,  and  he  accepts  the  views 
of  his  little  world  without  question,  modifying  them 
unconsciously  by  his  own  imaginings  and  by  his  own 
interpretations  of  words,  filling  out  the  gaps  by  his 
own  fancies,  until  he  oftentimes  has  a  new  system. 
From  the  age  of  nine,  however,  doubts  begin  to 
appear,  and  at  adolescence  are  likely  to  culminate  in 
a  thorough  questioning  of  the  entire  system  of  relig- 
ious belief  and  to  end  in  conversion.  The  sudden 
awakening  at  this  time  to  the  importance  of  religion  is 
due  to  the  profound  bodily  changes  going  on,  changes 
which  are  reflected  in  the  child's  mental  condition. 
The  character  of  the  conversion  varies  with  the  tem- 
perament of  thi-  child  and  with  what  he  desires  and 
expects.  In  many  cases  it  is  followed  in  a  year  or  so 
by  a  reaction,  a  backsliding,  which  may  end  either  in 
open  rupture  with  the  church  or  in  an  intellectual 
readjustment  of  belief  within  the  church  itself. 


SUMMARY 


421 


The  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  follows  the  same 
general  course  of  development  as  do  religious  ideas. 
At  first  it  is  simply  the  acceptance  of  custom.  Obe- 
dience to  secure  pleasures  and  to  avoid  pains  is  the 
highest  morality  of  the  little  child.  But  by  degrees 
he  acquires  the  conception  of  a  law  that  is  beyond  any 
person;  and  at  adolescence  the  obligation  to  obey  this 
law  becomes  an  impelling  power. 

If  now  we  consider  the  general  development  of  the 
processes  of  perception,  memory,  imagination  and 
thought,  we  may  fancy  it  as  an  ever-swelling  wave. 
There  is  at  first  but  the  feeble  power  of  sensation, 
which  is  presently  reenforced  by  sense-perceptions. 
When  memory  is  added,  these  become  far  more  numer- 
ous and  distinct.  As  the  memory  wave  approaches  its 
crest,  it  bears  upon  its  bosom  fancies  which,  rapidly 
increasing  in  volume,  swell  the  already  strong  torrent 
of  perceptions  and  memories.  And  finally  comes  the 
wave  of  conceptions,  reaching  its  culmination  at 
adolescence.  After  this  time  the  four  sweep  on 
together  in  an  ever-swelling  tide,  each  one  inextri- 
cably mingled  with  the  rest,  and  the  whole  made  ever 
more  resistless,  as  reading  and  travel  carry  the  tide  of 
consciousness  on  to  still  greater  heights.  At  last 
comes  the  time  when  flood-tide  is  reached,  when  the 
man,  in  the  full  maturity  of  his  powers,  does  with  a 
mighty  strength  his  chosen  work;  and  then  follows  the 
ebb,  when  little  by  little  the  tide  sets  back,  as  there 
pass  away  first  reason  and  imagination,  then  memory, 
and  at  last  even  clear  perception,  leaving  once  more 
the  old  man  in  the  mental  state  of  the  baby. 

In  the  discussion  of  feeling  and  emotion  we  saw  that 
there    is  a   great    need   of   further   study.      With    the 


THE   CHILD 


422 

exception  of  ancjcr  and  fear,  practically  none  of  the 
child's  emotional  states  have  been  carefully  described. 
Anger  and  fear  appear  to  be  instinctive  emotions,  but 
are  roused  by  different  oljjects  in  different  children. 
Anger  is  the  reaction,  at  first,  against  pain,  deprivation 
or  disappointment,  and  seems  to  be  best  controlled  by 
diverting  the  energy  into  other  channels  instead  of  by 
allowing  the  child  to  brood  (n'er  his  injury  or  to  dis- 
cuss it.  Fear  seems  to  be  caused  by  an\'thing  that 
makes  the  child  feel  his  helplessness,  whether  the 
object  is  known  to  be  dangerous,  or  is  simply  strange 
or  mysterious,  or  startling.  The  number  of  fears 
increases  steadily,  but  the  character  changes.  Imagin- 
ary fears  and  the  fear  of  nature  increase  as  the  child 
grows  older. 

We  know  so  little  of  the  other  emotions  that  we  can 
make  no  general  statements  regarding  them. 

In  discussing  the  child's  doing,  we  must  first  note 
the  great  division  into  involuntary  and  voluntary  acts. 
Involuntary  movements  are  important  because  they 
furnish  the  child  with  the  material  for  the  later  volun- 
tary movements.  They  include  all  impulsive,  reflex, 
and  instinctive  movements.  At  birth  the  child  is  able 
to  carry  out  all  the  movements  necessary  to  maintain 
life,  but  none  of  them  appear  to  be  as  perfect  as  later, 
after  a  little  exercise  in  their  performance.  Other 
movements,  such  as  movements  of  the  eyes,  head, 
hands,  and  legs,  occur  only  as  the  result  of  stimula- 
tion, or  as  the  overflow  of  nervous  energy,  and  are  not 
under  the  child's  control  at  first.  When  they  do 
occur,  however,  their  general  character  is  the  same  as 
later  when  they  become  voluntary,  and  they  serve 
thus    as    involuntary    exercises    for    the    child.       For 


SUMMARY 


423 


example,  the  involuntary  movements  of  the  hand 
foreshadow  reaching  and  grasping;  those  of  the  legs, 
walking;  the  babblings  which  exercise  lips  and  tongue, 
talking.  The  child  is  thus  prepared  for  the  time  when 
the  ins^'inct  of  imitation  shall  rise  to  serve  as  his 
teacher.  This  occurs  between  the  fourth  and  sixth 
months.  Thenceforward  the  acquisition  of  voluntary 
movements  of  all  sorts  is  very  rapid.  The  order  of 
control  of  these  movements  begins  with  the  larger  and 
less  complex  ones,  like  the  movements  of  the  legs  and 
arms,  and  proceeds  to  the  finer  ones,  such  as  control  of 
the  individual  fingers,  and  the  rate  of  increase  in  control 
decreases  from  year  to  year.  As  it  is  often  stated,  the 
growth  is  from  control  of  the  fundamental  to  control 
of  the  accessory  movements. 

When  we  undertake  to  trace  the  changes  in  any  one 
series  of  voluntary  movements,  we  find  the  task  much 
complicated  by  the  constant  alterations  in  the  move- 
ments due  to  the  developments  and  changes  in  the 
child's  interests.  Imitation,  for  example,  while  it  is  a 
true  instinct,  and  is  at  first  largely  a  mechanical  repro- 
duction of  what  holds  the  child's  eye,  is,  even  as  early 
as  the  end  of  the  first  year,  greatly  modified  by  the 
child's  individual  interests  and  surroundings.  Any 
child  imitates  those  forms  of  the  race  activities  which 
he  sees  going  on  about  him — talking,  walking,  and 
such  bodily  activities,  as  well  as  all  the  activities  of 
the  household  and  of  the  village  or  town — and  is 
incalculably  aided  in  his  individual  growth  thereby;  but 
such  imitation  soon  becomes  but  a  tool.  As  soon  as 
he  has  become  somewhat  familiar  with  the  movements, 
he  begins  to  vary  them,  to  make  new  combinations,  in 
short,  to  invent.     In  all  this  he  is  repeating  on  the  side 


THE   CHILL) 


424 

of  movimcnt  the  same  growth  that  \vc  noticed  in 
passing  from  memory  to  imagination  and  reasoning. 

The  child's  drawing  shows  still  more  markedly  his 
mental  growth.  At  first  a  mere  scrawl,  meaningless 
to  others  and  to  himself  as  soon  as  he  forgets  his 
intention,  it  gradually  becomes  a  conscious  imitation 
of  something,  and  then  the  attempt  to  reproduce  a 
story  or  situation,  an  attempt  modified  more  or  less 
consciously  by  the  child's  own  imagination.  At  first  a 
drawing  without  detail,  with  many  of  the  most  impor- 
tant factors  omitted,  it  by  degrees  introduces  the 
important  things— such  as  all  the  parts  of  the  body — 
and  passes  on  to  ornamentations  and  decorations  in 
which  the  child's  own  taste  appears.  At  first  a  thing 
which  the  child  enjoys  on  account  of  the  movements, 
it  becomes  a  thing  which  he  enjoys  for  what  it  means 
to  him,  for  the  sakr  of  the  product  of  which  he  can 
criticise  the  technique.  Of  the  subjects  which  the 
child  would  choose  to  draw  at  different  ages,  we  can 
at  present  say  little,  but  we  can  predict  with  confi- 
dence that  they  would  reflect  the  child's  strongest 
interest  at  each  age.  He  naturally  produces  figures 
in  action  better  than  figures  at  rest,  showing  here  also 
his  strong  love  of  movement,  and  his  tastes  would 
doubtless  declare  themselves  in  all  the  details  of  his 
work. 

Play,  more  than  any  other  form  of  childish  activity, 
shows  child-nature,  declaring  both  its  past  and  its  pos- 
sibilities. It  is  not  saying  too  much  to  assert  that  the 
playfulness  of  the  young  of  any  species  is  greater 
the  higher  the  species  stands  in  the  scale  of  life,  for  the 
longer  the  playtime  of  the  young,  the  more  will  they 
be  educatLcl  and  the  more  will  they  learn  new  methods 


SUMMARY 


425 


of  protecting  themselves  and  of  securing  advantages. 
A  long  playtime,  that  is,  a  long  period  of  preparation 
for  the  duties  of  adult  life,  is  the  necessity  of  progress. 

The  child  begins  to  play  almost  at  birth  or  as  soon 
as  he  begins  to  delight  in  the  feelings  obtained  from 
the  exercise  of  his  senses  and  his  muscles.  Later  on, 
when  through  imitative  play  he  has  obtained  control 
of  his  body,  he  plays  with  his  fancies  and  ideas,  and 
by  means  of  toys  makes  for  himself  a  world  mingled 
of  facts  and  fancies,  a  little  cosmos  compact  of  truth 
and  legend,  in  which  he  moves  freely,  glorying  in  his 
creative  power.  But  about  the  ninth  year,  a  new 
aspect  of  growth  becomes  prominent.  His  rapidly- 
growing  body  calls  now  for  more  violent  exercise,  and 
his  developing  mind  demands  more  variety  and  more 
difficulty.  Games  that  call  for  physical  strength,  and 
in  which  the  element  of  rivalry  is  strong,  become  far 
more  prominent.  At  this  time  the  old,  traditional 
games  have  their  strongest  hold.  Latest  of  all,  with 
adolescence  comes  the  manifestation  of  the  social 
spirit  in  the  organization  of  teams  and  clubs,  in  which 
the  play  is  carried  on  in  a  systematized  way,  with  a 
conscious  purpose. 

Here  we  must  conclude  this  study  of  the  wonderful 
child-nature  to  which  we  look  for  the  regeneration  of 
the  race.  So  complex  is  it,  so  rich  and  so  varied  in 
its  forms,  that  not  even  the  completest  study  could  fully 
describe  it.  This  resume  has  done  its  part  if  it  has 
now  and  then  given  us  a  new  glimpse  of  the  little 
child  who  stands  wondering  and  innocent  at  the  thresh- 
old of  life,  or  if  it  has  made  clearer  to  us  the  truth  that 
to  love  children  wisely  we  must  know  them  well. 


TIIK   IXORX 


Abnormal  children,  47-52. 

Abuse,  sexual,  62-63. 

AccDmiidation  of  len.s  in  baby,  83. 

Action,  imitation  of,  296-297. 

Adjustable  seats,  43-45. 

Adolescence,  chanKes  at,  58-59 ;  and 
conversion,  181-182. 

Adults,  imitation  of,  296. 

Affection,  227. 

Age  and  disease,  25-26 ;  and  memory, 
113. 

Air,  and  fatigue,  41  ;  test  of,  41  ;  to 
secure  pure,  41  ;  importance,  42-43. 

Ambitions  <if  children,  130-137. 

Anger,  216-218. 

Animals,  and  expressive  cries,  316- 
317;  imitation  of,  296;  interest  in, 
242. 

Arithmetic,  interest  in,  243. 

Associations,  earliest,  85;  and  reason- 
ing, 158-159;  and  puberty,  59. 

Automatic  movements,  254-257. 

Baby-talk,  323. 

Bad,  ideas  of  good  and,  198-199. 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark,  on  color,  375; 
drawing,  382-383  ;  imitation,  298  ; 
instinct  of  distance,  89-90;  inven- 
tion, 128-129;  concept,  147;  rhythm, 
341-342 ;  suggestion,  303. 

Barnes,  Earle,  on  drawing,  384-386; 
interests,  239-240;  punishments,  201- 
2<m;  theological  ideas,  180-181. 

Bashfulnes.s,  224. 

Beauty,  love  of,  374. 

Bergen,  on  religious  education,  177- 
r78. 

Binet,  on  interests,  239-240. 

Blood,  changes  at  puberty  in,  58. 

Body,  control  of,  275-288  ;  importance, 
9;   child's  vs.  man's,  17;   rhythms 

of.  340-34<- 
Bolton,  on  rhythms,  342. 
Brain,  control   of    movements,   278; 

growth  of,  280. 


Bryan,  on  control  of  movements,  282. 
Bryant,  on  memory,'  111-112. 
Buckman,  origin  of  speech,  319-320. 
Bullying  and  teasing,  198. 

Calendar  forms,  115-118. 
Calkins,  on  fears,  220-221. 
Caresses,  227. 
Causes,    interest   in,    237,    239,    245 

reasoning  on,  156,  160. 
Cell,  growth  of,  17-18. 
Chance,  idea  of,  196. 
Chandler,  on  hopes,  131. 
Children,  imitation  of,  296. 
Child-study,  9-12. 
Classes,  idea  of,  144. 
Classification  and  language,  332-335. 
Climbing,  265-266. 
Clow,  on  reasoning,  163-166. 
Clubs,  409. 

Coe,  on  conversion,  185. 
Color,     discrimination     of,    281-282 ; 
interest  in,   240,    375;   vocabulary, 
326. 
Comparison,  145-146. 
Compayre,  on  impulsive  movements, 
257;  pains  and  pleasures,  214;  sen- 
sations, 71 ;  sound,  76. 
Concept,  of  good  and  evil,   193-211; 
and  language,  332-335  ;  and  reason- 
ing, 141-172. 
Consonants,  order  of  appearance  in 

speech,  319-321. 
Control  of  body,  275-288. 
Convergence  of  eyes,  83. 
Conversion,  182  188,  190. 
Creeping,  264-265. 
Cries,  expressive,  316  317,  319. 
Criminals,   bodily  condition  of,  48, 

treatment  of,  49. 
Cruelly,  198. 
Culture  epochs,  248-249. 
Curiosity,  168. 
Custom,  idea  of,  199. 


426 


THE    INDEX 


427 


Dance,  and  origin  of  music,  344. 

Darrah,  on  hopes,  131. 

Darwin,    on    anger,    216;    origin    of 

music,  344  ;  sounds,  320. 
Deafness  at  birth,  75-76. 
Deductive  reasoning,  165. 
Degenerate,  the,  50-51. 
Demme,  on  head  movements,  261. 
Dermal  senses,  77-80. 
Dewey,  on  affection,  226  ;  concept  of 

number,  149-150;  first  vocabulary, 

325- 
Diet  of  children,  74-75. 
Disease,  and  age,  25-26  ;  and  posture, 

43- 

Distance,  concept    of,   151-152 ;    and 
imagination,  127  ;  instinct  of,  89-90. 
Dolls,  404-406. 

Drawing,  373-392  ;  interest  in,  243. 
Dreams  and  imagination,  122. 

Ebbinghaus,  on  memorj',  log-m. 

Education  and  conversion,  184;  and 
nerve  cells,  18 ;  and  rhythms  of 
growth,  25  ;  by  play,  393-395. 

Ellis,  Havelock,  on  sexual  abuse,  62. 

Emotion,  feeling  and,  212-230;  early, 
212. 

Ends  and  means,  167. 

Esthetic  feeling  and  imitation,  300. 

Evil,  concept  of  good  and,  193-211. 

Evolution,  290-292. 

Fatigue,  35-46;  and  memory,  115; 
and  play,  396-397. 

Fear,  219-224;  and  fatigue,  38;  per- 
sistence of.  102. 

Feelings  and  emotions,  212-230. 

Feldman,  on  first  words,  324. 

Flanders,  on  drawing,  385,  387-389. 

Food,  effect  on  weight,  19,  23  ;  natu- 
ral vs.  artificial,  19. 

Form,  interest  in,  240,  375-376. 

Frear,  on  imitation,  296. 

Friendship  and  moral  education,  209. 

Games,  interest  in,   236;  at  different 
ages,  403,  406,  407-409  ;  and  play,  396. 
Gates,  on  favorite  songs,  345-348. 
Geography,  interest  in,  243. 


Gestures,  instinctive,  312-314  ;  volun- 
tary, 314;  and  words,  316. 

Gilbert,  on  control  of  movements, 
282. 

Good  and  evil,  concept  of,  193-211; 
198-199. 

Good  breeding  and  morality,  208  209. 

Grasping,  80  82  ;  observations  on,  69 ; 
interest  in,  235. 

Growth,  15-25;  in  control  of  body; 
275-288;  and  school  grading,  284, 
concept  of,  150;  rhythms  of,  269. 

Guyau,  on  suggestion,  305. 

Gymnastics  and  play,  399. 

Habit,  293-294,  98-101. 

Hale,  on  children's  inventions  of 
words,  327-328. 

Hall,  G.  S.,  on  contents  of  children's 
minds,  9293,  242;  early  memories, 
102  ;  dolls,  404-406  ;  fear,  222-223  i 
religious  training,  188  189;  tickling 
and  laughing,  215  216. 

Hall,  Mrs.  W.  S.,  on  rolling,  263 ; 
creeping,  264 ;  walking,  267-268 ; 
sound  sensations,  76  77  ;  grasping, 
80-81 ;  eye  movements,  84-85  ;  per- 
ception, 88-89. 

Hamburgher,  on  hopes,  135-137. 

Hancock,  reasoning  on  number,  166. 

Handwork,  276,  285-288. 

Health  and  play,  396  397 ;  and  mem- 
ory, 115;  and  idiocy,  48  ;  and  crim- 
inality, 48  ;  and  morality,  207-208. 

Hearing,  colored,  115  ;  tests  for,  34-35. 

Height,  and  weight,  283,  21  ;  increase 
in,  20. 

Heredity,  and  interest,  232  233 ;  and 
plays,  397-398. 

History,  interest  in,  243. 

Holbrook,  on  fear,  222. 

Hopes  of  children,  130-137. 

Hygiene  of  sex,  64-65. 

Hypnotism,  293. 

Ideals  of  children,  130-137. 
Ideas  and  suggestion,  304. 
Idiot,  bodily    condition,    48 ;     treat- 
ment of,  49. 


4^-^ 


THE    INDEX 


Illusions  and  imng:ination,  133-124. 

linages,  105  109 ;  and  memory,  103- 
107  ;  and  concepts,  143  ;  and  relig- 
ion, 176,  190. 

Imagination,  120140;  and  play,  3>9- 
4»o ;  and  reason,  155. 

Imbecile,  bodily  condition,  48  ;  treat- 
ment of,  49. 

Imitation,  interest  in,  235-236 ;  and 
play,  402  ;  and  suggestion,  290-310. 

Impulsive  movements,  254-257. 

Inattention  and  fatigue,  45. 

Individual  and  race,  248-249;  method, 
■o. 

Inductive  reasoning,  161-162. 

Inflections,  children's,  329-330. 

In.sensitiveness  and  fatigue,  45: 

Instinct,  and  gesture,  312-314  ;  of  imi- 
tation, 294-2^5;  and  play,  397-398 ; 
and  movement,  259-272. 

Interests,  231-251;  and  fatigue,  40; 
and  feeling,  213;  and  memory,  113- 
"4- 

Invention  and  imitation,  301-302;  and 
imagination,  128. 

Involuntary  movement,  252-272. 

Jacobs,  on  memory,  111112. 

Jealousy,  218. 

Jegi,   on    hopes,   132-133;  on   money 

motive,  134. 
Joys  and  sorrows,  224-225. 

Keller,  Helen,  early  memories,  102  ; 

prominent  images,  107. 
Kirkpatrick,  on  memory,  112-113. 

Lancaster,  on  sexual  dangers,  63. 
Language,    311-338;    secret,    330-332; 

and  conception,  153-154  ;  interest  in 

235,  236,  243. 
Laughing,  tickling  and,  215. 
Law,  idea  of,  160-161,  199. 
Lies,  196-197;  and   imagination,    126, 

1 29- 1 30. 
Lips,  sensitiveness  of,  78. 
Locomotion,  263-269. 
Love,  226-228. 

Mar.sh,  on  songs,  345-348. 
Muss,  drawing  in,  384,  387. 


McDonough  farm,  195-196. 

Means  and  ends,  67. 

Melody,  love  of,  344-345,  349-35°- 

Memory,  96-119  ;  earliest,  85  ;  and  im- 
agination, 121. 

Mental,  development  and  physical, 
16.  32,  59  ;  fatigue,  37-45. 

Methods  of  Child-Study,  10. 

Monotony  and  fatigue,  39. 

Moni-oe,  on  hopes,  131,  133. 

Morality,  religion,  and  theology,  174- 
17s;  of  child,  193-211;  and  health, 
16,  32, 45,  48,  207-208;  and  good  breed- 
ing, 208-209;  and  friendship,  209. 

Moral  training,  204-209. 

Aiosso,  on  emotions  and  movements, 
292-293. 

Mouthing,  78  80,  260. 

Movements,  252-274  ;  and  conscious- 
ness, 292-294  ;  random,  80  ;  of  hands, 
81  ;  of  eyes,  83-85;  interest  in,  236, 
240,  243,  245 ;  imitation  of,  296  297 ; 
expressive,  312-314  ;  control  of,  and 
mental  ability,  285  ;  control  of,  and 
height  and  weight,  283. 

Muscles,  fatigue  of,  36,  45-46 ;  read- 
ing, 293. 

Music,  rhythm  and,  339;  in  Elemen- 
tary School  of  University  of  Chi- 
cago, 349-370  ;  interest  in, ^243. 

Mystery  and  imagination,  127. 

Names,  love  of,  154. 
Nature,  interest  in  study  of,  243,  245; 
and  religion,  177,  189-190;  rhythms 

of.  339- 

Nerve  cells,  277 ;  connections  be- 
tween, 279-280;  and  movements, 
276277;  and  education,  18;  and 
fatigue,  18. 

Nerve  fibers,  277-280 ;  and  associa- 
tion and  comparison,  145 ;  and 
imagination,  122 ;  and  memory, 
9697. 

Nervousness,  46-47. 

Noises,  love  of,  344. 

Number,  concept  of,  149-150  ;  reason- 
ing on,  166;  forms,  115-118. 

Nursery  rhymes,  342-343, 


THE   INDEX 


429 


Observation  of  children,  importance 
of,  13  ;  general  directions  for,  13  14  ; 
for  concepts,  141  ;  for  drawing,  373  ; 
for  feeling  and  emotion,  212  ;  fot 
control  of  body,  275  •  for  imitation 
and  suggestion,  200 ;  for  move- 
ments, 252;  for  language,  311;  for 
memory,  g6  ;  for  imagination,  120  ; 
for  moral  sense,  193  ;  for  music  and 
rhythm,  339;  for  play,  393;  for 
religious  sentiment,  173. 

Order,  law  and,  160-161. 

Originality  and  imitation,  301-302. 

Ornamentation,  380  381. 

O'Shea,  on  love  of  pictures,  378  ;  or- 
namentation, 380-381. 

Outline,  drawing  in,  384,  387. 

Overwork,  37. 

Overworry,  38. 

Ownership,  idea  of,  195  196. 


Pains  and  pleasures,  first,  213-214. 

Parental  instinct,  270. 

Perception,  and  conception,  144;  and 
imagination,  123  ;  and  memory,  97  ; 
and  movement,  253  ;  and  sensation, 
69-95. 

Perez,  on  fatigue,  214;  on  compar- 
ison, 146 ;  spontaneous  imagina- 
tion, 122  ;  the  first  vocabulary,  324- 
325. 

Personification,  124-125,  156  157. 

Persons,  interest  in,  236,  239,  243,  245- 
246. 

Phillips,  on  teaching  instinct,  270. 

Physiological  suggestion,  303. 

Pictures,  love  of,  376-379. 

Pity,  225  226. 

Play,  393  415. 

Playmates,  imaginary,  126-127. 

Pleasures,  pains  and,  213-214. 

Possession,  idea  of,  195-196. 

Postures,  and  disease,  43. 

Preyer,  on  class  ideas,  145  ;  fear,  220  ; 
imitation,  295;  gestures;  312-314; 
memories,  103-104 ;  movements,  84, 
85,  258-259,  261,  262,  267,  268  ;  pains 
and  pleasures,  214;  sensations,  71, 
73,  76,  78,  80 ;  perceptions,  88,  89  ; 
instinct  of  distance,  97  ;  language, 
319,  326,  327,  328. 


Programs,  school,  and  fatigue,  39. 

Pronunciation,  322-323. 

Puberty,  58-59 ;  and  conversion,  iRi- 

182. 
Punishment,  200-209. 
Purpose,  idea  of,  158. 

Questions,  children's,  168-169. 

Race  and  individual,  248-249. 
Random  movements,  254-257. 
Reasoning,  and  conception,  141-172; 

and  imagination,  125-126. 
Recognition,  85. 
Recollections,  loi. 
Reflex  movements,  257-259. 
Religious  sentiment  and  theological 

ideas,  173-192. 
Repetition,  in  imitation,  298-299. 
Reproductive  organs,  57. 
Rhythm  and  music,  339-372  ;  interest 

in,  236,  242. 
Ribot,  on  number,  149. 
Richter,  on  suggestion,  308. 
Rivalry  and  fatigue,  38. 
Rolling,  263-264. 

Salisbury,  on  vocabulary,  325. 
Sandpile,  story  of  a,  411-412. 
Sanford  and  Triplett,  on  rhythms, 

342- 
Schallenberger,  on  punishment,  200. 
Scott,  C,  on  anger,  217-218. 
Seats,  43-45. 
Seeing,  interest  in,  235. 
Self,  concept  of,  151. 
Selfishness  in  affection,  227. 
Sensation,  and  perception,  69-95  ;  the 

first,  71  ;  cultivation  of,  91  ;  effect  of 

defective,  92-93;  and  concepts,  144; 

and  puberty,  59;  and  memory,  96- 

97  ;  play  with,  400-402. 
Sentences,  first,  328-329. 
Sequences,  in  reasoning,  159-100. 
Sex,    feelings   and    ideas   of,  56-68; 

instruction  on,  66;  abuse,  62-63. 
Shaw,  on  interests,  239-240. 
Sheldon,  on  hopes,  135-137. 


4:,o 


THE    INDEX 


Shinn,  on  color,  375;  cries,  319-320; 
comparisons,  145-146;  imitation,  295; 
movements  of  head,  261 ;  locomo- 
tion, 263-267;  pictures,  377  ;  sensa- 
tions, 71-72;  sounds,  76;  sucking 
and  mouthing,  78-79  ;  memory,  85  ; 
perception,  88-89. 

Sight,  observations,  69;  develop- 
ment, 82-85  ;  defective,  33  ;  and  per- 
ception, 87-90. 

Sign  language,  314-315. 

Sitting  erect,  262. 

Skin,  sensitiveness  of,  77. 

Small,  on  suggestion,  304. 

Smell,  71,  73. 

Smile,  the  first,  214. 

Societies,  409. 

Society,  and  imitation,  301;  and  relig- 
ious spirit,  17s;  and  moral  sense, 
194. 

Songs,  345-348;   composition  of,  350- 

370- 

Sorrows,  joys  and,  224-225. 

Sound,  sensations,  75-77 ;  and  per- 
ception, 87. 

Speech,  311-338;  and  drawing,  381- 
382  ;  imitation  of,  296-297. 

Spelling,  interest  in,  243. 

Spencer,  on  punishment,  204. 

Spontaneous  movements,  254  257. 

Starbuck,  on  religious  ideas,  179,  181- 
182,  185  188. 

Statistical  method,  11. 

Stimulus,  response  to,  282. 

Stories  and  imagination,  123. 

Street,  on  punishment,  201. 

Structure,  interest  in,  240. 

Study,  and  fatigue,  38. 

Suasion,  moral,  205. 

Substance,  interest  in,  240. 

Sucking,  234-235. 

Suggestion,  imitation  and,  290-310. 

Sully,  on  concept  of  growth,  150; 
cosmology,  162;  fear,  219-220;  love 
of  flowers,  376  ;  pronunciation,  322- 
323  ;  questions,  169. 

Surroundings,  early,  103. 

Sympathy,  325  226. 


Taine,  on  first  cries,  320. 

Tapping,  rapidity  of,  282. 

Taste,  sensations  of,  71,  73-75;   and 

perception,  86. 
Taylor,  on  hopes,  131  ;  on  sensations 

of  temperature,  77. 
Teacher,  and  suggestion,  305  308. 
Teaching  instinct,  270. 
Teasing  and  bullying,  198. 
Temperament  and  conversion,  185. 
Temperature,  sensations  of,  77. 
Theological  ideas,  173-192. 
Thought,  141  172 ;  and  language,  332- 

333- 
Tickling  and  laughing,  215. 
Time,  concept  of,  152. 
Tones,  sensitiveness  to,  345. 
Tongue,  sensitiveness  of,  78. 
Touch,  sensations  of,  77-78  ;  and  per- 
ception, 86-90. 
Toys,  404. 
Tracy,  on  first  cries,  321 ;  vocabulary, 

325>  327- 
Trettien,    on    movements,     25S--^56 ; 

locomotion,  264 ;  sitting,  262. 
Triplett  and  Sanford,  on  rhytb~is. 

342- 

Truth,  idea  of,  196197. 

Variety  and  fatigue,  39-40. 
Ventilation,  41-43. 
Vocabulary,  324-328. 
Voice  and  puberty,  58. 

Walking,  266-269. 

Weight,  increase  in,  18-20;  and  food, 
19;  and  height,  21  ;  and  mu.scular 
control,  283 ;  discriminations  of, 
282. 

Whiting,  on  personification  of  num- 
bers, 124-125. 

Will  and  imitation,  299. 

Winking,  83. 

Wolff,  Hoy's  dictionary,  325. 

Wonder,  168. 

Words,  first,  324;  invention  of,  327; 
and  gesture,  316. 

Word  forms,  115-118. 

Work  and  plaj',  395-396. 


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